Competition and Survival
by Faeyrinne
Summary: Heero Yuy, age 23, is a snowboard cross prodigy in the upcoming Olympics after recent trauma, he has shut himself into a hole of despair. But when he meets some of the competition, his dreary outlook takes an interesting spin... 1x2 CHALLENGE FIC: Warning
1. Chapter 1

Heyo, folks. I'm getting my skills together and I want to try a longer-chapter, less-chapter fic. This is actually being written for a contest on another site, and the challenge is to put the Gundam boys in an AU fic where they enter the Olympics. Whoo for AU. I've never tried it before.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters, nor Gundam Wing, nor anything else related to the company or its affiliates. Hell, I'm a college student, I own hardly anything. If you send me an email telling me you're going to sue me, it will make my day. :) Also, this contains lots and lots of man sex, so if that stuff bothers, you, GEET OUT. It's rated M for a reason - also there's some bad language (gasp) and some other things that might make you cry if your poor virgin mind can't handle them.

OTHER NON-SARCASTIC DISCLAIMER: This is an Alternate Universe fic. Meaning that the Gundam Wing universe DOES NOT exist as it does in the manga and anime! In this fiction the boys and other characters live here on earth, in present-day. Heero is from Canada, though he has Japanese parentage. Duo is a hang loose Californian like me. Heero is slightly different from his counterpart in the anime, though not by much, because of various events that haven't happened (the girl and her puppy, 'Perfect Soldier' training, etc etc etc).

THANKYOU: To Misty for betaing, because my love for you is like rain.

FURTHERMORE: I will shut up now and let you read.

* * *

It was twenty minutes into the press conference on the day before the Olympic opening ceremony. The entire city was afire, awaiting with bated breath the atheletes that promised to make this year's Olympics the best ever. Crowds of women and men thronged the area, a mass of bodies separated only by a thin strip of red carpet and two velvet-lined dividing ropes, leading up to the front door of the _Chateau Noir, _the best hotel the city had to offer. 

People screamed, cameras flashed as car after car pulled up to the hotel and various atheletes, accompanied only by one bodyguard and their personal coach as per regulation, made their way down the carpet and into the hotel, to the fifth floor conference hall where the event was to take place.

I turned away from the car window and looked at the old man beside me, his turned-down mustache twirled between pondering fingers. "J, those people are _rabid,_" I said, a dour expression on my face.

"You'll be great, Yuy. Keep your cool. They just want a piece of you."

I was _always_ cool. I was always calm and collected. I returned to staring out the window, half fearful and half impatient, but none of it showing. "I just came here to board. I didn't think it would be so…crowded.

"You're professional now, Heero. Just enjoy it." This was Hilde from my left, her so-black-it-was-almost-blue hair getting longer every week. I wondered if she'd had extensions. She had it pulled up in a smart ponytail, her blue eyes large and sparkling. I'd forgotten she'd been in the car, she had been so quiet. But that was Hilde: mostly silent, always thinking, and always happy. But she was one of the only people to care about my existence for the last three years…

"They're just your fans. You think this is bad, try starring in a movie. The paparazzi would tear you apart. And look at you, all made up in sponsor's clothing. Don't tell me you're not enjoying this attention." By _sponsor's clothing, _I assumed J was referring to the thousand dollar jeans-and-silk-shirt set I had on. Twenty-six clothing companies had all offered various samples of items to me for free: official sponsorship in the Olympics of any athelete was strictly prohibited, but that didn't stop them from sending me things and _hoping _I'd wear their merchandise. But of course, I had a press manager now to manage that sort of thing. Just another perk to being a professional snowboarder.

I sighed and blew out a petulant, short breath. My bangs fluttered.

I never enjoyed attention.

The car stopped.

Once inside and through the metal detectors at the door, we were surrounded in an enclosed room, monitored with fourty-nine security cameras and numerous bodyguard staff. All around I could hear athletes, like myself, drawling in loud voices to eager camerawomen, or signing deals, or giving statements about their intentions during the Winter Games.

Nobody paid attention to me, at least not at first. Maybe this was because I kept my head mostly down and lowered my shoulders, letting J and Hilde do all the talking. People eventually realized that _oh, that's Heero Yuy, the hotshot snowboarder, _and tried to turn their questions to me. "Do you have any loved ones in the audience cheering you on?" One man asked, a smile on his face. I paused to look at him: balding, middle-aged. Sickening. What did he think he knew about me? Nothing.

This sudden spasm of brutality coming from my mind was odd. I'd never thought like that before about someone, but suddenly, I was _angry. _And in the back of my mind, her face was there...accusing, impassive, and still beautiful despite everything.

"No," I said coldly, and elbowed through the crowd, bile rising in my throat. _I hate crowds, I hate crowds, I hate crowds…_

I'd never gotten like this before. Not after winning regionals, not after entering the prelims for the Alpine International, one of the most prestigious competitions out there, and never in front of someone. Not even after the Whistler Championship had I been so crowd-shy, so revolted by being around so many people. When I got to the bathroom, I was glad to find it empty.

I snatched a towel out of the neatly folded pile, thrust it under the faucet and splashed some ice-cold water onto my face, wiping down my forehead even though I wasn't sweating. _Snap out of it, Yuy. _I prayed for the press conference to be over soon. How long had it been? Half an hour? Longer?

The meeting was supposed to last until five PM. A quick glance at the bathroom clock told me it was almost four. That meant I had an hour to kill.

The stalls in this bathroom were immaculate, perfectly arranged down the row. I chose the second to last one, slipping inside it and locking the door behind me before taking a seat on the toilet and leaning against the side of the stall. _Okay. I can do this. I just need to relax a little… meditate, or something._

I closed my eyes and focused on breathing deep, keeping myself controlled. It felt like I might explode, all this pressure. Everything that had been happening… Relena… my 'parents'… God, and all at once. Relena's smile, her image appeared and I squashed it down, shoved her face away where it couldn't be seen again and where it would stop following me into my dreams.

* * *

I wasn't aware that I fell asleep. But I must have, because the next thing I knew, I smelled smoke. 

I awoke with a twist of my neck, and immediately gave a sharp intake of breath: I had a horrible crick from leaning against the side of the stall. But I guess I'd deserved that. Irritated, I pushed out the stall door, and nearly tripped over someone's legs. "Hey, easy there," the person said, and I turned to give them a glare, but never got the chance.

He was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Model? Actor? No, to see the easy muscles he had on him, he was definitely an athelete, like me. But what kind? His hair was very long, a mix between gold and brown, and pulled back into a braid. It didn't look weird, though. On any normal person the hairstyle might have looked out of place, but not on him.

He was lanky, with very long legs, both of which were splayed out on the bathroom floor. He was in a sitting position against the wall, wearing jeans that were ripped at the knees and a t-shirt with the logo of some foreign band plastered on the front. A cigarette was held demurely between two fingers, a thin line of smoke trailing up to where it billowed around the ceiling. _So that's where the smoke was coming from. _

"You okay? I was beginning to think you were dead or something," he said, then laughed. It was godlike. "I mean, I came in here about fifteen minutes ago for a quick smoke, and you were just lyin' in the stall, but I figured you'd had it and I wasn't going to wake you up." The laugh receded to a grin. "Training too hard?"

How did he know I was an athelete? Maybe surprise showed on my face, because he waved his free hand dismissively: "You look like a competitor. Hmm, what's your name?"

"Yuy," I said, still leaning against the stall door. "Heero Yuy."

"Hey, I know that name. You were on _Ten Most Successful, _weren't you? Snowboard cross, right?"

I nodded, sighing inwardly. That stupid article had been Hilde's idea. She'd let the magazine do an entire write-up on my athletic history, including all of the heartbreaking trauma along the way. I knew what was coming next… the 'sympathy' look. When people spoke to me, if they'd read the article, they always remembered what it had said: _recently Mr. Yuy lost both his parents in an accident. Despite this tragedy, he intends to compete in this year's Winter Olympics; see him there!_

The look formed, sure enough. "Hey, man. Sorry about what happened to—"

"Yeah, my parents, everyone says that. It wasn't a big deal," I replied nonchalantly.

The man paused, then laughed bitterly. "I'm sorry, it kinda sucks when people sympathize with you, doesn't it? I mean, some people like that, but I can't stand it when they tell me that they're _so sorry _and they don't know what the fuck they're talking about." He looked up, eyes serious. I was slightly taken aback by the change of mood. "But enough about that. I guess I should tell you, I'm Duo Maxwell. American Ski Team. So we'll be seeing each other."

I watched him as he turned to the cigarette, taking another short drag. Smoking in the bathrooms here was against the rules, but I wasn't about to tell him that. Besides, if it wasn't for Duo's smoking, I might not have woken up in time for the end—oh, the end of the press conference! Shit!

"What time is it?"

He looked at his watch. It was a beaten up, old model."Eh, five 'till."

"I'm not going out there," I said curtly, "Until that thing's over." And then I sat down next to him, stretching my legs out alongside his. He offered me the pack of cigarettes, and I shook my head. The pack disappeared into the pocket of his worn jeans, and then he examined me very conspicuously. I tried not to wonder why he was looking at me that way, and instead focused on my fingernails for a few quiet moments.

"So, you've got one of _those _managers."

"Hm?" I asked, looking up quizzically.

"The press managers who slap all these labels on you. Dress you up like a doll so the companies will discreetly pay them a couple thou each. I've been there, done that, and I feel for you." He gave another one of those common grins which was nonetheless spectacular, and I shrugged, suddenly self-conscious.

"Though they certainly, ah, picked a good candidate with you," he added. I nodded, still not taking my eyes off Duo. It was the braid that fascinated me, I decided. Definitely the braid. How did one get hair like that?

Suddenly the door whisked open, and there was a fat, graying old man in a suit in the doorway with an irritated expression on his face. _Whoops. _I knew that man; it was J. With a start I realized that he'd probably have been searching for me all this time. "So this is where you are, Heero! I finally find you and you're hiding out in the bathroom with—" he sniffed cautiously: "It smells disgusting in here."

"Sorry," Duo said, and snuffed his cigarette between two fingers, tossing it into the trash can next to him. "You won't tell on me, will you?" he asked me, looking up at me with very blue, very pleading eyes, a wry smile teasing his lips. Almost seductive. I was staring, I realized, and blinked myself back to the present: "Um. No." I could have kicked myself. _How articulate of you. _"—and we'll grab the car and pick you up around front," J was finishing, but I couldn't hear him.

J shut the door again with one last irate glance in my direction, and I stood sheepishly. "I'd better go," I apologized, and he nodded. "Right. See you round, Heero. Don't work yourself too hard. Go out to a club or something, enjoy yourself a little. You made it this far, right?"

I considered what he'd said all the way out of the conference room front entrance, down the elevator, and out the side door of the hotel to the black car that was waiting for me in the drive-up area. I thought about Duo's words as I shed my clothes in my hotel room on the other side of town, and got into the shower, and stood under the hot spray, trying to let the tension in my body release itself without hurting anyone, as it had been threatening to do lately. And all the while I pictured his face. He'd been the first person I'd met in almost a year who hadn't called me _Mr. Yuy _or been working with me for the Olympics' sake. He'd called me Heero, like a friend, like someone who knew me well.

I didn't even know anything about him. Just his name. Duo Maxwell.

I thought about his words as I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist, going to the closet and peering in. I picked out a hanger with a pair of leather pants attached; the pants themselves were so tight I wondered if they'd fit me at all.

I looked at the material thoughtfully, draping it over both arms. I looked at my cell phone lying on the bed. I looked at the handle of the door, and I thought about his words.

Ten minutes later I stepped into a cab, heading for club _Charisma. _

* * *

The lights were always what entranced me. As I entered, it was pounding music, some kind of techno trance. I'd heard that the place was good, but I didn't go to clubs very often. Not as much as I should have. And when I did go, it was usually _with _someone; never by myself before. 

The music only got louder. Not so loud that I couldn't hear myself talk if I'd wanted to, but still there, still encouraging. And I was like a moth, the way I was drawn to those lights. Everything in the club was red. Bright, crimson lights, a black-and-red floor, and what seemed to be almost pillars of flickering fire off to the sides. There were a couple of cages off to the side where dancers of both the male and female persuasion were moving within, nothing more than silhouettes against a rapidly changing background. The scene was adrenaline-inducing, and I couldn't help feeling excited, even if I had sworn to myself that this was to be a relaxing evening.

That is, until I saw the poster.

"Citius, Altius, Fortius!" proclaimed the slogan, below five interlocking rings. What a very familiar sight, and yet it made me want to run up and tear the thing down. I hoped nobody had recognized me: I didn't want any more throngs of fans today. I didn't want to have to deal with people asking me right now, interrogating, questioning, screaming my name…

Kit was the first one I saw. Kit Lorenza, a Spanish in-line skater. She was dressed in a leather skirt that came up to _just there _and a rather low cut top, dancing with someone who I recognized as Stefan Gnoscio, Italian lugeman. Fantastic. How many atheletes were here that I didn't recognize, and how many of them knew me by face?

I slipped up to the bar and discreetly ordered a drink. The tender gave me a double look, but handed me the glass without any remark and took payment as he would for anyone else. For that, at least, I was grateful.

I listened to the music, tried to relax, and found that I was just becoming more and more strung out. _The opening ceremony's tomorrow. You should be in bed; this is stupid. Why the hell did you listen to someone you didn't even know? Right, 'go out and have some fun'. What a crazy idea. _I rubbed my forehead tiredly.

Someone's hand came down on his shoulder and a figure slipped into the seat next to me. "Heero! You look homicidal," Duo said as he plucked the glass from between my hands. There was a thin hairline fracture no more than an inch long in the glass. Had I really been staring at it with that much intensity, squeezing it that tightly? I stared up at him wonderingly: "Duo? What are you doing here?"

"Following my own advice. Are you here alone?"

"…Yes," I said, unable to take my eyes away. He was wearing tight black denim and a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned to reveal smooth muscle underneath, as well as slightly defined abs. The mix of gold hair on honey-bronze skin against white was nearly dizzying. I swallowed and looked up at his face, trying not to focus on the heat that seemed to be building in my chest, and instead concentrated on his eyes.

"Come sit with us then. Bring your drink—you look good." He pulled me along behind him, giving me an encouraging wink as he turned. The tip of his braid whisked around just slightly as he turned his head. I wanted to touch it while he was looking ahead, but couldn't quite bring myself to do it. He brought me to a booth on the opposite side of the main dancefloor, ushering me into a seat before I could get my hazy thoughts around the present.

"Duo! Thought you were just running off and leaving us there for a second—oh, who's this?" The voice was a lighter tone, though still masculine, and it belonged to a lithe blonde with bright eyes and a pleasant smile. Next to him was a brunette with longish bangs swept to the side and dark green, sharp eyes. Those eyes could cut. To the far right was a third man, his straight, glossy black hair falling to just below his chin, his dark eyes upswept and exotic, with folded arms.

"Heero Yuy, snowboarder. Meet Quatre Winner, luge, and Trowa Barton, speed skater. Wufei Chang and I are skiers." He beamed at me, and so did all the others, save for Trowa, who merely whispered something to Quatre. Whatever it was, it made the blonde man flush pink for a moment. All four of them looked like models. I felt like a nobody sitting next to them.

"Er, hey," I said lamely, giving as much a smile as I could muster. Well, _this _was awkward. They all knew each other and I was the newcomer.

This seemed to be enough though, because after a moment I was carried into conversation between the four and found myself actually _replying _to things they asked me. Where was I from? Canada. Was I Japanese? No. Japanese parentage, but no citizenship. Did I have people with me- siblings, parents? No, nobody. How long had I been boarding? Since I could remember.

I was responding. I was carrying on a conversation without hesitation. Maybe it was the lights that were doing it, or the alcohol's calming effects, but I found myself drawing out of the shell I normally put up and actually laughing, smiling.

Duo looked ethereal in the lights of the club.

As soon as I thought this, I mentally kicked myself. _Relena! What about Relena? You're not allowed to think things like that… you can't let yourself think that way…_

"Get up for a sec, Heero, Will you?" Duo was asking me, starting me out of my reverie. I scooted out of the booth and let Quatre and Trowa out, then scooted back in, now sandwiched between Duo and Wufei. As Duo and Wufei talked about the necessary protocol for the Ceremony tomorrow, I looked at Duo, watched how his face changed when emotion flickered across it. When he was happy, his eyes got a little wider and his forehead creased. When something puzzled him, his brows came lower and his mouth made a little pouty sort of twist.

Wufei suddenly pointed across me out to the dance floor. "Aren't _they _just getting along well?" he asked, a slight smirk in his tone. I followed his line of sight to where Quatre and Trowa were dancing, pressed together on the dancefloor, Trowa's arms around Quatre's hips and his lips pressed to the blonde's ear, whispering things to him as the track changed from a major to minor chord. The pulsing picked up in speed and they moved faster to the rhythm, gyrating as if their bodies cleaved together naturally.

"They look sexy together. _I'm _not complaining," Duo said, stretching.

"You're a pervert," Wufei said, rolling his eyes.

"Nope, just a Californian. We're free-spirited. Besides, I don't see _you _getting out there with anybody. Go on, Chinaman, make me proud."

Wufei cleared his throat, and his barely detectable Chinese accent thickened a little as he looked out at the couple. "Not my style." But his facial expression said otherwise. It was almost wistful.

Duo coughed something that sounded like _repression _and Wufei gave him a sharp kick under the table. "American bastard. You have no respect," he said in a hard voice. His face then, so fired up and his eyes wide, was just so funny that I couldn't help bursting out into laughter. Duo gave me a surprised look, and then began laughing too. Wufei's tough face melted a moment later and he grinned along with us.

There I was, having a laugh with two guys I hardly knew. Maybe there was something in my drink. _Or maybe you're just becoming human again, _my conscience told me. I hadn't laughed since the accident. It felt good to laugh; I'd forgotten that.

Stefano Gnoscio went out the door past us, clearly beat. And it was only eight fifty. Kit Lorenza was left behind, and it looked as if she were going to leave the dance floor.

Wufei hopped up and nearly tripped over himself climbing out of the booth. "Ex-cuse me, but I feel I shall leave you two alone now," he said, then made a beeline straight for her. Whatever he said to her, it worked, because her small, dark eyes lit up and she almost floated into his arms. He took her out to the floor and they, too, began to dance a moment later, their eyes focused on each other.

"You really think he's gay?" I asked Duo.

"Nah. I used to be part of a foreign exchange student program when I was younger, and I went to China. That's where I met Wufei… I've known him a while and we've been skating together and training, so I like to kid him about that sort of thing. He knows I'm just teasing him." He smiled at me. "Actually, he's got a girlfriend back home, I think. He's a cold bastard but the ladies _love _it over there for some reason."

I nodded, watching him and Kit for a moment before my eyes drifted back to Quatre and Trowa, who were still cleaved, and then back to Duo. Something about his eyes… A few tendrils were escaping from his braid and framing his face, gold-red in the light.

"Do you have one?"

"Do I…" I repeated, my memory hazy. But then I recalled what he'd just said: "A girlfriend? Well… yeah, kinda," I said. I looked off towards the other side of the club, my gaze distant and vacant. I downed the rest of my drink under Duo's calm, unjudging eye. "Did she come?" he asked me.

"Well, she…" I set the glass down and stared at the light warping on its surface. "Who am I kidding?" I said with a sigh. "I don't have a girlfriend. I did. She left me a couple of weeks ago."

He winced. "Ouch. Tough, man."

My face didn't change."She had...reasons." Now what had she said that one time?

_"Heero, it's not working," she'd told me. I'd been reading the paper, drinking coffee, already dressed in my boarding clothes and prepared to meet J at the slopes in an hour for a training session. I'd looked up, not sure what she was talking about at first._

_  
__"What? Something wrong with the sink?"__  
__"No!" she'd said with vehemence. "The relationship. You can't feel, you can't even love yourself or take care of yourself emotionally for Christ's sake, how do you expect to take care of me? I don't even know you, Heero. I don't know anything about you, and we've been living together for a year now. A year. Does that mean anything to you?"_

_"Relena, what are you talking about? Just tell me what you want me to do!"__  
__"I don't –want- anything from you, Heero. I want you to accept that you can't love me, and I'm leaving you, because you're a wreck. I don't even know how to help you because I don't know what's wrong with you." _

_She was the first person to hurt me. After that I closed up and there was no redeeming me._

"Chicks always say that," Duo said. "They always pretend like they're the victim. It's how they justify the means. At least guys are up front about that kind of thing." He closed his eyes and signaled down the waiter, ordering another drink. "Just go with it, is what I say. Shit happens." He gave my shoulder a friendly pat, looking once more to the dancefloor. Quatre and Trowa had disappeared, but Wufei and Kit were still there, closer than ever, and one of his hands had come around to cup her rear as they moved.

Suddenly I felt that same bile feeling returning, like earlier in the day. "It's not that," I said. "I'm sorry, I just don't…" I looked at his face: perfect features turned down in sadness. Sadness… for me?

"I don't need you sympathizing over me," I finished. He immediately shook his head. "I'm not sympathizing. I'm empathizing. There's a difference. At least this girl—"

"Relena," I interrupted, and he nodded. "This Relena, at least she didn't just up and leave in the middle of the night. Was she a businesswoman?"

"No," I said. "Teacher."

"See? Now my girl, she was a public-relations type. Ruthless. She left when I fell asleep one night and the bitch didn't give so much as a hey-ho. She was sleeping around behind my back, I knew, but it doesn't matter anymore. I've been scorned, as they say." He lifted his brows at me. "I'm a ver-r-ry particular guy. I have a specific type."

"What's that?"

"Mm, I don't know. Usually when I meet someone, I can kinda tell by the vibe they give off. It's just a… feeling I get. I don't know how to explain it, really." He shrugged. "What about you?"

And I, for a second, was tempted not to speak at all. That had been my agenda for the last few months. But part of me, something deep down, _wanted _to be paid attention to, and craved the kind of talk that Duo was giving me. Not 'I'm so sorry for your loss' talk or 'Mr. Yuy, let's talk about your assets' talk. I wanted to tell Duo things that I usually never bothered to tell people.

"Someone who doesn't pressure me," I said quietly, though not so quietly that I wasn't heard over the music. "Someone who doesn't expect things from me."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Duo agreed, and we both sat there in silence, watching Wufei and Kit together and our shoulders touching all the way to the elbow. My glass was empty, and I looked at it, then checked the time on my cell phone.

"God! It's one o'clock!" I said. "The ceremony tomorrow…"

"Yeah, that's true, we've got to rehearse again, don't we?" Duo said glumly. I sighed. "I've got to go. My assistant, she's been like a sister to me, and she'll be up all night if I don't check in with her." The screen on my cell phone read _thirteen missed calls: Hilde Cell._

"All-right. I'll see you tomorrow, then, at the ceremony rehearsal."

"…Yeah," I said after a moment. _See you tomorrow. _Someone was looking forward to seeing me. As innocuous and normal as that was, and as often as people said it every day, it held some kind of weight for me.

As I waited for a cab outside, I looked up towards the sky. It was beginning to snow. But at the same time, it felt as if my shell had cracked, like melting ice.

Just a tiny bit.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to Misty for nitpicking. Annnnnd to my other beta-er, David. YES I HAVE A MALE BETA NOW. Thank the sweet heavens.

Diet Coke in heavy quantities produces headaches. No mas, no mas!

* * *

I felt like a truck had hit me in the morning, though. 

I never was big on alcohol. Maybe it was the idea that I wasn't controlling myself, that something _artificial _was giving me the buzz I would feel. Having a mild hangover was no new feeling but that didn't make it any less pleasant.

I shrugged into my boarding clothes and snatched up Wing, my board, slipping out of the room. The red tail was painted with a streak of gold, and the make was the best money could buy… it had been a gift a few months ago from one of the companies, and it was my pride and joy. Though I'd never told anyone else I'd secretly named it—that would just be weird. The clock read six oh nine. Five hours of sleep? No problem. I'd spent the last few months staring at the ceiling for the better part of a night, anyways.

_Get her out of your head._

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, punching the keys on the elevator door and riding it down to the basement level. There was a back door I could probably get out of there without being seen. I'd done a casual walk-around of the hotel, though it wasn't really necessary with all the security around; old habits died hard, I guess, and though it hurt to think of dad I knew that's what he would have done if he was with me.

The doors slid open and J was there, leaning casually against one of the gray walls. Down here in the basement nobody cared about décor much. I narrowed my eyes at him: "What're you doing here?" I asked slowly, trying to avoid sounding malicious. I had _hoped _for some alone time.

"Kid, day after tomorrow's the first run. I'm coming with you whether you like it or not. That's what you pay me for." He winked, and I remained impassive. "Fine," I said in a cold tone. _Don't slow me down._

He noticed my somewhat tired-looking appearance and raised one eyebrow, his look melting into one of concern: "Kid, you takin' care of yourself? You're not feelin' shitty again, are you--?"

"No," I said, anger swirling up inside me. I wanted to punch a hole in the wall. I had been able to control the anger attacks recently, and I'd been getting better with managing the sudden 'triggers' that would send me off. I knew this would not be a full blown attack, and took a few deep breaths.

J watched me coolly. "Take it easy. We'll do the course until you want to come in." Not insistent, but reassuring. He knew how I could get. _Knew how I could get… _like I was some kind of diseased invalid, or a shrink case that needed certain circumstances to function normally…

I let out the breath I was holding, feeling the anger flood away as quickly as it had come. "Okay, okay," I said, regaining my composure, following him out the door.

I always thought of J as a mathematical genius, so it confused me why he'd want to become a snowboard coach. But to each his own, I guess. He never struck me as the athletic type, but he always knew what he was talking about, and that's what was important. He wasn't a friend, but... he was the closest thing I would call a father under current circumstances.

The next two hours consisted of me speeding my way down the practice course like a bullet, with him watching me through those thick greenish-silver glasses he liked to wear. They made him look like a retard, though I don't think he knew it. Some people just looked plain stupid in glasses, like Relena when she'd had to buy a pair. They'd been too small for her and she'd kept them in her shirt front and never actually used them…

…No.

_Concentrate! You can't afford to be thinking about her now!_

I gritted my teeth as I slid off the ski lift, skimming down to where J waited.

"One more run? Dip your nose a bit more when you turn into those moguls, bend your knees more. But you know that already."

I shot off without hearing the rest. _Just board. Live. Get through it. Keep moving._

* * *

"Heero! HEERO!" Hilde yelled right in my ear, and I turned, distracted. We were making our way through the crowd, the three of us, and I was just looking around at the athletes swarming by, trying to figure out where the hell I was supposed to be in this maelstrom. Hilde caught me by the elbow and pointed at a spot a little ways down. "Our seats are over there! Damnit, where were you last night? I couldn't get a hold of you! You didn't show up for rehearsal this morning, did you?" 

"Charisma," I said curtly.

"Where's that?" she yelled back.

"Club. Other side of town." I wasn't in the mood to talk, and she knew it. I was showered and pressed and suited up in Salvage and True Religons. I felt like some kind of puppet, displayed for all to see. Hilde gave me a scowl: "I hate clubs. You'd better not stay out too late tonight. First race's at three PM."

"I know," I replied curtly as we found our seats and sank down. "I won't."

She grinned at me and fingered a lock of her just-getting-longer bluish hair. "Ooh, look, the skiers," she suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the box just below us. "Is that the American team? Ugh. My last boyfriend was a skier. Hated him to death!" she hugged herself, the lapels of her suit-top widening as her arms crossed. "I remember one time…"

I wasn't listening, though. My attention had been sorely caught. And my heart rate spiked. _Just an adrenaline rush, _I self diagnosed, though it felt like I might be choking. There in the second to front row of the Ski Team seating was Duo, his legs crossed and his arms folded on his chest in rapt attention.

Wufei Chang was seated next to him, and as Duo seemed to be spacing off, the Chinese man curled a fist around his braid near where it joined his head and tugged lightly, enough to get Duo to laugh and swat his hand away.

I couldn't stop staring. _Hair like that… isn't normal…_

Oh, _shit. _I couldn't be actually feeling like this for Duo, could I? I hardly even knew him! He'd just been nice to me, that was all, and I was starving for attention… looking for fulfillment somewhere else… another self analysis. If I rationalized my thoughts I could keep them at bay.

_But it should be a sin to look like that._

And damn, he _did _look a sight. He was wearing a sleeveless red shirt of which I couldn't see the front, and jeans that sagged down on his rather narrow hips, exposing just enough skin between the waistline and the hem of the shirt to drive anyone who saw him crazy, no doubt. Wufei said something to him with an impassive face and he grinned, taking a moment to reply…

"…And then he told me he was bisexual, you know—Heero, are you okay?

It took me a while to raise my head and nod without any conscious thought. Hilde followed my line of sight to where I was staring, but seemed unable to find Duo. "What're you looking at?" she asked casually, a finger laid on her chin.

"Nothing," I growled. Suddenly I didn't like the idea of anyone staring at him—anyone else looking at him that way. _He's –mine- to look at! _

And I blinked. What had made me think _that, _of all things? You're crazy, Yuy.

Hilde just chuckled. "Okay, okay. Forget I asked," she said fondly.

The music died down. Someone approached the center torch, carrying a lit flame of their own. Some former athelete whose name I couldn't remember. The crowd went wild momentarily, Hilde whistling shrilly on my left and cheering loudly. The ceremony had begun; an Italian singer got up on the center stage down below. I could barely make out her features from where we sat, but that's how I liked it; I'd have hated to be any closer to the throng of people down in front of the stage. Damn me and my agoraphobia.

My eyes drifted down below to where Duo was. He and Wufei were having much more fun than was reasonable, with Duo cracking jokes and pointing at various people below and Wufei nodding his head with a stern smile, which was probably as warm as he got. The whole time Duo had his braid over one shoulder and was fingering the end as if it were a good-luck charm, something reassuring to him.

The next three hours I spent staring at the back of his head, willing him to turn and look at me—and not, at the same time, because what could I do? I wouldn't speak to him again. I wouldn't dare approach him. _I have to crush this, _I thought. _You're an idiot, Yuy. Just because he gives you a bit of conversation you're suddenly…_

…suddenly what? Wanting to talk to him. Wanting to be his friend.

_I don't deserve companionship anymore. I can't be a friend to anyone._

When Hilde beckoned for me to follow her, I did, tearing my eyes away from Duo and Wufei as they disappeared into the crowd. She never touched me—she knew how I was about people grabbing me—and instead smiled reassuringly at the top of the stadium as we exited to the parking lot. "See? That wasn't so bad," she said with a grin. "Weren't those gymnasts awesome, and the torch lighting? Which was your favorite, Heero?"

"The… what?" I asked. I hadn't paid attention to what was actually _going on. _

"Y'know, out of all the acts. Which did you like?"

"They sucked," I replied, which was the safest option. "All of them."

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"Or were you just staring at that blonde girl in the front?"

I narrowed my eyes at her. _She thought Duo was a girl? It's none of her business! _She put her hands up: "Sorry, sorry! But it...it's good that you're getting over Relena, you know. It's good for you to look at other people, even if—"

"Shut up," I said, my voice deadly and full of ice. She could feel the anger radiating off me and abruptly closed her mouth. "Just… shut up, Hilde."

She got a slightly wounded look in her eye, but shrugged it off. My anger melted away just like it had come, disappearing suddenly and leaving me with guilt. _She's been one of the few people who stood by me these past months since the accident and Relena leaving. She deserves better than this from me. _My stomach knotted up painfully, as it always did whenever I thought about these things.

I wonder if she ever found out that for a month after she left, I sat in the tree next to her window and watched her sleep about twice a week. I wonder if she knew that I was there? She never said anything. If she'd found out she would probably have put a restraining order on me, sick bastard that I was, but she never did, so maybe she had no clue. "Guardian angel" nothing. I wanted her back, badly, but I would never admit it.

I could never admit that I was weak. Ever.

Neither could I apologize to Hilde, who kept walking in silence.

We got back to the hotel a few blocks from the ceremony site, and Hilde nodded goodbye to me. She did speak then: "Are you doing anything tonight? I'm giving comment to a local magazine and I think J's going to some kind of coaches' party, but if you want to meet up later we could do something…? It'd just be us two, like friends."

"I'll stay in tonight," I told her. "No thank you."

She got that wounded-puppy look in her eyes that I hated on a woman. Not that I had sympathy for anybody, _anybody at all, _but studying her face I realized something horrible.

Hilde was in love with me. Actually… in love… with me. How hadn't I seen it before?

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes!" I snapped. I hated when people asked me twice about anything. I could feel myself closing up with the realization, feel every fiber in my body tensing for rejection.

"O-kay," she said, letting out a short breath. "Well, take care of yourself, Heero."

As soon as she was gone I walked through the front doors. The lobby was deserted for the most part save for a few employees, and as I got into the elevator I slammed my hands against the railing. "Damnit, damnit, _damnit!_" I shouted.

Why me? Why couldn't I just be back home in Ontario, just living a normal life for once and not having to deal with all of this?

I couldn't even recall dad's face anymore. Mom's face had faded long ago. I could only remember bits and snatches of memories from a while back.

_"Odin, he's got it! Aww, I'm so proud—ah, he's going to fall, Odin, catch him—"_

_"No, leave him. If he doesn't learn how to fall he'll never be good at it."_

_I stared at him reproachfully as I brushed snow off myself. I was probably about nine or ten, and had a bright blue snowboard strapped onto my feet. I was on the tiniest run on the mountain, and it was sometime in December. I only remembered grimacing at him, and then… nothing else…_

_Winning his approval had been everything to me..._

* * *

I slipped under the shower's spray. Even in the hotel room I followed a set ritual. Shower, dress, TV for an hour, sleep. Sometimes I would eat, but more often than not I wouldn't. Food had no appeal for me. If Hilde or J came over they would cook for me, but I hated it, because I felt like an invalid then. _The grieving process, _they said about me, I knew. _He shouldn't be by himself in a house. _But they left me alone for the most part when I asked them to and I kept living alone anyways. Nothing much changed except that Relena left soon after. 

Hilde was a good woman. She was smart beyond belief, funny, cheerful, feminine in a cute sort of way but not over the top. Any guy would kill for a chance with her.

I didn't love her.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I skipped the dressing part and just sank down on the couch, flipping on the TV. I flicked to the local news channel in this town and settled into a boneless lump, trying to get as comatose as possible. This was probably how I'd spend the evening, and I didn't mind; the less contact I had with people, the better.

_"And now we move to a special report on this year's Olympics! Yes, the ceremony has taken place, and shortly we'll see a recap of the events that took place, just after we take a look at this year's competition…"_ the anchorman shuffled his papers, and a newswoman spoke up. _"There are several up-and-coming atheletes this year, the most noticeable of which is…"_ she twittered off into the specifics of several members of the figure skating team, and I snatched up the remote, turning the TV off exasperatedly.

Couldn't I get away from these stupid games?

I looked at the phone. Nobody to call, of course. I didn't have 'friends'. I didn't need friends, anyways. But I had to get out of here. I would explode if I didn't do something.

I let out a long breath, and then I got up to get dressed.

* * *

This time I knew where I was going, and that made me a little more confident than last time. The bartender gave me a short nod as I came up, recognizing me from the other night but like a good man not saying anything. "Just beer. Surprise me," I said tiredly. Alcohol: the gods' gift to mankind. He handed me the glass and the remainder of the bottle and I sighed, looking out at the crowd of pulsating bodies. 

"Having a tough time?" he asked from behind me.

"No."

"Says you." He went back to polishing a glass and setting it below the counter. I scowled to myself, swearing that if I ever had a hit list he would be at the very top for thinking he understood one iota of me.

"By the way, your blonde friend's over there," he pointed out.

"I don't…" I started, and then his words sank in. "What?"

"Over there. Down the line, see?" there were a cluster of tables on the opposite side of the upper deck, where the bar was. One such table was pressed against the balcony, looking down at the dancefloor below. An enormous red lava lamp was situated right next to it, the bubbles of liquid oozing up and down in tiny patterns.

Duo was sitting with Trowa and Quatre, sans Wufei it seemed. The latter two were gathered pretty close as if they were forming some secret plan between them, talking, and Duo was leaning back against the seat, eyes scanning the room boredly.

He spotted me at the same time I caught sight of him, and his eyes widened, just a little.

"He's been here every night the last two weeks. I'm starting to think he lives here," the bartender told me, but I ignored him, too busy pretending like I hadn't seen Duo. He chuckled to himself.

I dared to raise my eyes again to where Duo was. He was still looking at me, and when our eyes locked he grinned and beckoned me over with one hand. _Shit, he's seen me! _I panicked. It's not like I was afraid of him, but… the thought of human interaction was a scary one. Of actually being forced to talk, to make eye contact with other people.

But he'd called. I had to come.

I left my drink there and the money to pay for it. The bartender gave me a self-satisfied smirk and I glared at him before slipping away from the bar and over to where Duo's table was, conscious of every step. His smile only brightened as I approached and he patted the seat next to him. Rather than telling him to fuck off and getting away from there as quickly as possible, as I would have done with anyone else, I found myself taking a seat. Like some kind of zombie, I was no longer in control of my body.

"Heero! Thought I saw you over there and wasn't sure. I didn't see you at the ceremony today."

"I was… above you," I said slowly. Monotonically.

"Up higher? Oh, that makes sense. Wufei was going to come tonight but he had some kind of training to do. Which means, of course, that he's off screwing Kit Lorenza—that's moving fast, even for him." He shrugged.

"Oh," I said. I didn't know what else to say.

"So. The first snowboard heat is tomorrow, right? How're you feeling?"

"Fine." Keep it to one word answers. _Fuck, _he made me feel odd. Highwired, tense in a good kind of way, on-edge and if he so much as touched me I would have to come closer and I wanted to run like hell. But then I felt the tiniest bit guilty for shrugging him off like that; after all, I had made the decision to come over, hadn't I? "It won't be hard," I told him.

"You're that sure?" he replied. "Hmmm. I wish I had your kind of resolve."

"Yeah, well." My face burned at the compliment. Thank God the club was mostly red and my skin tone wasn't an issue in the near-darkness. I looked briefly over and saw that Trowa and Quatre had gotten even closer, so that their noses were about an inch apart. Quatre's eyes were lowered, like he wasn't even looking Trowa in the eye anymore.

Oh, _God._

"Just ignore 'em," Duo said with a smirk. I realized that he'd seen me staring at them out the corner of my eye and shuddered, just a little bit. But not with repulsion. With… jealousy. Envy, maybe. I wanted that—a working relationship. I wanted to feel lust pumping me like a drug again, squeezing into me until I was so full I could explode. I wanted to feel those things again like I used to. "They're funny kids, those two."

I would later remember this as being the milestone to my recovery. The moment I decided that I actually wanted to have emotions again. I looked at Quatre and Trowa and I _wanted _it so bad.

"Quiet, pretty boy," Trowa snapped in a quiet voice, clearly irritated. Quatre withdrew his head a few inches, blue eyes becoming worried and wide. "Trowa, he was just teasing! Please, don't yell…we're in public…"

"Doesn't matter. He's just jealous," Duo replied, pulling up the edge of his braid and flicking it in Trowa's direction like a paintbrush. The sudden motion was… coy. Sexy. How can I put it? He exuded confidence like a sponge with water.

Quatre grinned. "Don't use that line or I'll have to tell Heero here your secret." And then he leaned over and said it to me anyways behind one hand, though clearly loud enough that everyone at the table could hear: "_He's really a brunette." _He wasn't being rude, or mean, but prodding fun at Duo in a younger-brother sort of way. Duo furrowed his brows: "Hey! I happen to like the color. So what?"

"Yeah? Why don't you cut it, either?" Quatre shot back. "Vanity! That's why."

"Maybe I will, just to piss you off and prove you wrong."

"Don't cut it."

Everyone turned to stare at me.

"Huh?" Duo said, and I nearly grated my teeth at having to repeat myself.

"Don't cut your hair," I said flatly.

Duo grinned. "See? Heero likes it. You're crazy. Now get back to making out and let us carry on our conversation in peace, okay?"

Trowa stood, his face impassive, and grabbed Quatre by the hand, half-dragging him out of the booth and towards the restrooms without a single word. Quatre grinned back at us before disappearing from sight and then the two of us were left with each other.

"He… doesn't talk much," I said.

"Who, Trowa? Yeah. He's more of a 'work until you die, feel no emotion' type. Lot like you if you think about it, only… eh. I like you better." He made little air quotes with his fingers as he spoke, and once finished, He turned his face to look at me. "Now if only I could get _you_ to talk to me…"

Suddenly I wanted desperately to prove him wrong, to be who he thought I was. "I can talk," Iassured him. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to know why you're in the Olympics. Guy like you could easily be working in another job just as easily. Are you just an adrenaline junkie like me or is the sport a thrill for you?"

"I… " I considered it. Why _did _I want to be here? Why did I get such a high out of boarding in the first place? "I...enjoy flying," I said, the words difficult to place.

"…Flying? Thought you were a 'boarder."

"They are... the same thing. When I'm boarding… I feel like, I don't know. I wanted to be a pilot." The last part I forced myself to say: _open yourself up a little. Make the crack wider. _The thought of trusting someone terrified me, but I faced it as something I had to do. _I have to do this perfectly. I will –not- tolerate failure in this!_

He smiled, genuinely interested. "That's the damn best reason I've heard. Guess flying on the ground is the next best thing to flying in the air… but why didn't you become a pilot?"

"My dad wouldn't let me. Well, he wasn't my real dad. My real dad… died a long time ago. He was my step-dad. His name was Odin Lowe, but he changed to my mother's last name, which was Yuy, and then he taught me to board when I was small… he hated anything that had to do with the military and I guess he saw flying as part of that, so… uh, he told me I couldn't. I got pissed at him, tried to join up at flight school when I was younger and ended up dropping out after the accident, coming back to board full-time, that was what he always wanted from me so I'm doing it."

I had said all of this very quickly in a couple of breaths. He stared at me, lips a fraction apart: "That's the most I've heard out of you in one go. That's… well, tough." He put a hand on my shoulder, and I didn't even flinch. Just talking that much had taken more out of me than I'd have liked, and now I was feeling a little… woozy. Tired, overwhelmed, whatever you want to call it.

"Hey, I'm sorry for asking you to talk to me. Look, I didn't mean to force that on you. Are you okay? Shit, man, I'm sorry." He looked at me with genuine concern, then at the empty beer glasses on the table. "I'm gonna get you water or something, be right back."

He stood and walked off towards the bar. I looked down at my hands, which were clasped in my lap, and were shaking. They were both white around the fingers and knuckles, that's how hard I'd been holding them together. I pried them apart, as if they were living creatures independent of my own body, and took a few deep breaths to try and calm myself. _I told him everything! I opened up for a little while.. he could hurt me, he could use that against me and I wouldn't have anything to defend with. He could insult me and I'd be open raw. I'd bleed if he hurt me now. _God, why couldn't I stop breathing like this?

I looked back to the wall near the bar where Duo was, and saw that he was talking to a couple of burly, tall gentlemen with an angry look on his face. These guys were massive. Neither looked particularly intelligent, and both of them were leering at him with the kind of self-satisfied grin of a pervert having found a target.

One of them approached him and put their hands on his shoulders, pressing him against the wall as the other slid his hand up the front of Duo's shirt. He shrugged the hands off and tried to move forward, but they barred him and slammed him against the wall again.

I stood, my fists clenching. The first man bent down to whisper something in his ear, his hand sliding to rest on the waistband of Duo's jeans.

I flipped out.

That's a bit of an understatement, actually.

I walked forward at a very slow pace, and took several things into account at once, as if everything were happing in slow motion: Duo's look of surprise and fear, his wrists trying to draw the man off him. He was strong, but not strong enough to take them, and he didn't know the first thing about fighting. Luckily, from the way they were holding themselves, neither did these guys. But none of this entered my actual 'thought' processes: I placed one hand on the shoulder of the closest guy and punched him.

I was as tall as Duo. I was no more muscular than him, no more toned, no more at a physical advantage. But I had done this before, many times. I knew the familiar feelings of a fight coming up…

He never saw it coming. I felt cartilage and bone snap underneath my fist, heard his cheekbones snap and his nose give way under my fingers, heard him wheezing for breath as blood began dripping down his face instantly. He went down in a lump clutching at his face and screaming.

Just then the music rose into a crescendo. It became so loud that I couldn't hear myself at all, much less the screams of those who were falling under my hands. The second man rushed at me and tried to throw a punch. I caught the fist, shoved him off balance as I darted to the side, elbowed him in the ribs and felt several crack. He gargled and I slammed his head into the wall with one hand. If he wasn't dead, he was certainly going to be needing some intensive care.

But that wasn't all. Both were down on the ground. I slammed a kick into the first man's chest, and he rolled over with a grunt, almost unconscious. My next kick sent him about half an inch off the floor, and the next, and the next, and the next…

…I went into a haze…

"Heero, Heero, stop, stop! Stop!" Duo said. He had both hands on my arm and I was about to punch _him, _too, but at the last second something inside me snapped off neatly, like a switch. I paused with my fist in the air and lowered my arms to my sides, blinking.

"Duo."

"Yeah, me. Shit! Holy… Jesus… Christ, you…" he stared at the two lifeless bodies. We were just around the corner from the bar, in a small alcove, so nobody would see the bodies unless they came at just the right angle. His face gave away his fear and astonishment. "You took 'em down like… like a fuckin' professional or something…"

I suddenly sagged to my knees, and Duo paused. "Hey, Heero, don't go down here. C'mon, these losers are gonna get found soon and we don't want to be here." He looped an arm around my waist, helped me back to my feet as my head spun and I nodded groggily. "Come on, outside. I'll catch a cab and we can go back to my place, fix you up."

"No… my place," I managed. "Chateau Noir." I gave no reasons for my insistence, only that I wouldn't be taken somewhere familiar. Never. I had to always be under control.

He nodded, and somehow we stumbled out onto the sidewalk in front of Charisma.

He hailed a cab and shoved me in before getting in himself, answering the driver's questioning look with a snarl. "Chateau Noir, come on. Haven't got all night."

The cabbie merely shrugged and began driving. I must have zoned out for a little while, because next thing I knew Duo was paying the driver off and helping me out of the cab. I threw off his arm: "I'm not _useless,_" I said venomously. I knew how to walk. I wasn't a stupid little kid. We rode the elevator up to my floor and I unlocked my hotel room door with a shaking fist, trying to concentrate on the lock so it wouldn't shake under my vision. The door swung open and I led inside, trying not to collapse.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't push it," Duo said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

_It's okay. _

God, I could have cried. Nobody had ever told me that. Not once. _Sorry _I'd heard a million times, and _We can talk whenever you want _even more than that. But nobody had ever told me… that it was all… fine.

He forced me to sit down on the bed and then sat next to me, his eyes piercing mine with nothing but concern. "You helped me out back there. That's not the first time that's happened. Usually I can take care of myself. But that was good of you. Thanks, Heero."

"You're, um, welcome," I said, and my eyes stopped swimming. I wouldn't cry. I had this under control, all of it. I couldn't afford to have anything less than complete domination over my emotions, all of them. "I'm just tired."

"Yeah, no shit, after flying into a rage like that. How do you know how to fight so well?"

"I got into a lot of fights when I was younger," I said matter-of-factly.

He accepted this without pressing any further, his mouth pressed into a very straight line. He looked irresistible like that, with his braid over one shoulder and pooling into my lap, his face very close to mine and his hand on my shoulder.

"I like your hair this color," I said, picking up the braid.

"What, got a blonde fetish?" He asked, smirking.

"No. I… am attracted to redheads, actually. But this… is good on you."

"Well, thanks. Brunette's good on you." He raised his other hand to my hair. "Guess this is the color mine would be about if I hadn't dyed it. Been dying it since I was sixteen."

"Oh," I said, and kissed him.

I couldn't help it. It was instinct. Magnetism. An invisible rope drawing me to him and forcing my hands, like those of a puppet, around his waist and shoulders, crushing him against me as our mouths met. He wasn't saying no, either: he was more than happy to kiss me back.

_…Relena…_

Just as suddenly I shoved him away. "Fuck!" I swore. "I can't!"

He was at first surprised. But then he smiled, his face just the tiniest bit pumped with blood. "It's okay. I understand, man. You don't need to rush anything. It's okay."

There it was again. _It's okay._

I sagged onto the comforter. "You can go home if you don't want to be here," I said, my voice turning robotic again.

But Duo only smiled wider. "What, and leave you by yourself? No way. Even if I did go back to the club it would only be to find Quatre and Trowa screwing in the bathroom, and having to drag 'em out anyways and watch 'em make out the whole cab ride home. I think I'll pass, thanks. Now come here." He bent over me and began undoing the zipper on my pants. I sat up, going ramrod-straight: "What are you doing?" I asked, my voice hurried.

"You're not going to sleep in these pants, are you?" he asked.

"No," I said, still half-frightened that he might leave but even more afraid that he might want _that _from me. I couldn't give it. Not yet, not so soon... I couldn't open myself up that far or I'd shatter, every defense I'd carefully constructed would come down. But could I really say no if he asked? He tugged on one leg and then the other, manipulating the fabric. The pants came off. He didn't touch anything more.

"Tartan boxers, eh? Get to sleep, Yuy. I'm appointing myself official doctor and roomie as of tonight, because I sure don't feel like going home and leaving you to yourself." He peeled back the covers as he said this and shrugged off his own pants, slipping under the sheets. "C'mere. It's all-right."

I felt like a skittish puppy. Inferior, somehow.

This was a test between me and myself. _If you can learn to trust again, you can win your own bet._

I was determined to win.

I reluctantly got under after the shortest hesitation and he pulled me to himself so his chest was pressing against my back. He wrapped his arms around me, drew me close to him, settled in so that our bodies matched in the right places. Oddly enough I found my body matching its breathing to his, almost automatically. My speeding heart slowed down and the fatigue I'd been staving off consumed me entirely. I went limp against him.

"I'm sorry," I said, though the words were nothing more than a whisper.

"It's okay. I don't expect anything from you, Heero. I like you. Whatever you want is fine with me. Now get some sleep: You've got a race tomorrow." He flipped off the light.

In a few moments he was asleep. How weird was this? I was in a bed in a hotel being held—_held—_by another man. I had no qualms about being gay; I'd had several male lovers throughout highschool, and both my parents were… had been… fine with it. I'd had my share of female lovers, too; Relena most notably, but more besides her.

This felt like sin, though.

No, better than sin. It felt like absolution. It felt like I had been pardoned for something.

But I had work to do. In the morning I would once again be Heero Yuy, Professional Athelete and Twenty-Three-Year-Old Prodigy Of Canada, Ontario Province. But for now I was just me. All I had to do right now was be open with myself in the darkness, in my mind.

And maybe, in time, I could be open with him, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Bit a' smut in this chapter. Real smut comes next chapter and chapter after that, and I only expect to have five, maybe six chapters in this story. Whereas during my last fanfics I've put up 5-6 pages in MSWord per chapter, this one is turning out to be more like 13 pages per chapter. Which is a helluva lot for me; that's almost a novella. oO

I guess I'm just not a PWP kinda person.

Oh, and here's my disclaimer for this particular chapter: Snowboarding and Skiing are both verrrry fun sports, kids, but don't ever copy Duo and Heero and move at breakneck speeds without helmets. They're cool Gundam pilots and Olympic atheletesand not real people so they can pull it off, but don't ever try it at home! Wear wrist-guards, too, if you're a beginner. Breaking your wrist boarding is not fun. I speak from experience. I'm also not sure if downhill is in the winter Olympics; I don't think it is. But this is AU.

Anyways. So we go.

* * *

I remembered where I was in the morning when Duo's hand slipped from my waist to my hip and his hand curled against the flesh between my boxers and shirt, probably in his dreams.

Sunlight streamed in through the window. I looked at the clock on the bedside: Seven nineteen AM. Plenty of time before the race.

Was I nervous? No. Apathetic? Yes. Somehow this had become not about me and more about Odin, J, and Hilde. Somewhere in the process I had stopped caring whether I won or lost, or how many people were watching. The fame and the fortune all molded into a kind of background noise in the back of my mind as I tried to hold my own to impress the people who needed to be impressed.

Speaking of holding.

I looked down at the hand. Long, tapered fingers, and unflawed skin. He had hair on his arms, but it was so blonde it was transparent and I could only see it up close. Perfect. I didn't know why, but I wanted to apologize for what happened the night before.

I had kissed him.

I … _KISSED…_him.

I wondered if I was awake, or if maybe I had dreamed it all. But no, he wouldn't be here with me if I had. And true to his word he hadn't done anything in the night, just slept, holding onto me as if I were a dear friend instead of someone he'd met two days prior.

As I shifted his arm away from me and got out of bed, he rolled onto his stomach and turned his head towards me. "Mornin'," he said with that cocky smile. Must've been a Californian thing, because nobody I knew smiled like that and made it look damn good. He'd discarded with his shirt in the middle of the night and just the sight of his lean chest was sending all kinds of carnal signals to my brain.

I, however, said nothing, merely inclined my head.

"As your doctor an' roomie…" he started sleepily, "How're yeh feelin'?"

"Reasonable," I said, which was a concise and exact answer to my current state of health. He nodded as if this made all the sense in the world. "M'glad. What time's it?"

"Seven twentyish."

"Ummkay. First snowboard heat for you's not until… what, three?"

"Yes. By tonight… I will be a champion or I won't," I said.

"Eh, they're all a bunch of stuck-up shits anyways. Do it for you," he said.

I looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Was that supposed to be… deep?"

"Yeah. Can't you tell? I'm just full of sagely wisdom." He braced his head on his elbow as he propped himself up on the pillows. "Thanks again for last night, by the way."

"It was nothing," I rumbled. I didn't want to think about those men, the sheer horror on their faces before I'd driven them to near-death. When the club owners found them I might get in trouble. I should have carried them somewhere safe…

"They won't tell on you. They were just pimps. Johns. Nobodies, you know. Not enough cash or saved dignity to sue you even if they had a clue who you were. It was dark and loud in there. It'll be fine."

There was a knock on the door.

I gave Duo a panicked look, somewhere along the lines of _should I open it when both of us are wearing nothing but our boxers and you don't have your shirt on?_

"S'probably cleaning service. Go ahead," he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed so he was perched on the side. I nodded sharply and swung the door open to reveal…

…Hilde.

"Morning, Heero! Brought coffee, there's this little café on the corner. I went there yesterday and they messed up the order twice so I figured you probably wouldn't want what they gave me, but here you g—is someone else in there?"

"No," I said automatically. I took the coffee.

Her eyes widened and she leaned over towards the crack in the door. I shut it slightly so she couldn't see in. "Did you bring back a girl last night?" she hissed at me in a sharp voice. "Heero, this is press coverage we're talking about! Someone's going to be selling the 'I slept with Heero Yuy' story all over the magazines! You could have at least called and asked!"

"I haven't brought a girl into my room," I told her.

She paused. "Eh? Then who's that?"

I stared at her.

She suddenly got the message. "Oh!... _oh._ You… oh, Heero, I didn't know, I'm sorry. I totally didn't know…"

I felt a weight behind me and Duo opened the door all the way.

"Hilde?" he asked, his mouth hanging ajar.

She did a double-take. "…Oh, fuck, no…," she said.

"Ditto. What are you do—"

"Heero, please tell me you did _not _sleep with this… _this…_" she sputtered, pointing at him. Duo made a face and pointed at her accusingly from behind me.

"Don't you start, Hilde, don't you even start. I swear to God if you go off on me I'll wring your neck. I have a no-girl-hitting policy, but I'll break it, just for you, if you so much as—"

"How dare you even _talk _to me? You! You grew your hair out and… ugh, and got it re-dyed, and… augh, I don't even believe it!" she was shrieking. "I hate you! I hate you! I can't believe you'd come here of all places, and with _him _of all people, Duo, you _knew _I was here, didn't you, and you did this just to piss me off?"

I turned, very calmly, to Duo. "I thought you had been dying your hair since you were sixteen," I said in a cool, even voice.

"I stopped for a few years. Went red-headed," he said with a smirk. "Also cut my hair a bit… to about here." He motioned to his waist. "Used to let it free, too, and never braided it before—whatever, I'll talk about that later, but Heero, do you know this woman?"

"Yes. She's my press secretary," I said.

"Well. Isn't –that- nice? I always figured you for a lie-through-your-teeth, pick-up-other-people's-messes kind of woman, Hilde."

"Fuck you," she spat.

"Love, you already _have. _I thought we were over this," he said sweetly.

In the few years I'd known Hilde, I'd never known her to be like this. Ever. She was always sunny and cheerful and occasionally a bit sad but never for long. She was never this crazy, insanely furious woman that I saw before me. I put my hand on her shoulder. "And Hilde?" I asked before she could say anything else.

"My no-good ex," she snarled at Duo.

"Remember the one I told you about at our first meeting in the club, Heero?" Duo asked me, and I nodded. I did remember, every word. "She started sleeping around after she found out I preferred… well, _both _kinds of people." He gave her a feline grin and took my arm. "And you know, she was just never the same. Where have you been all these years, Hilde? You never did tell me where you'd gone after you left without telling me."

"You were cheating on me before I ever cheated on you!" she shrieked.

"I never so much as _looked_ at anyone else, love. I'm strictly monogamous." He nodded as if he were a saint. "Simply because I discovered a new sexual preference does not mean I acted on it. See, that's the thing about you. You jump to conclusions. Nice girl, but she's a pain in the ass to sleep with." He looked up at me. "Unlike you, of course." He gave Hilde a wink and threaded one hand through my hair as he leaned in close.

"I thought you didn't like to be touched," she told me. Now she looked hurt.

"This is different," I growled. As if she had any fucking _clue _what I'd had to push through just to get here. She hadn't been there. She hadn't seen how Duo treated me, how much I needed this on so many levels… she couldn't get inside my brain, and so I would not try and explain myself to her. She wouldn't understand.

"Hilde, we'll talk later," I told her, and leaned against the door. "This afternoon." I still had the coffee in my hand, and I was sort of hoping she wouldn't ask for it back. She did, after all, know exactly how I liked it. So I didn't want to be mean or cruel about this. After all, she'd been… well, the closest thing I had to a friend for a very long time.

Since Relena, at least.

Finally she nodded. "This afternoon. Don't be late. You have two qualification runs, an eighth, quarter, semi and final if you make it all the way, so eat well, okay?" She said this like a concerned older sister, then turned and gave Duo the most scathing look possible before turning on her heel and departing.

Right. As if I hadn't well memorized the schedule for the games already.

"Amazing woman," Duo said sarcastically.

I cracked a smile. He looked up at me, then suddenly removed his arm from my waist and hand from my hair. "Sorry for hanging on you, man. I just wanted to tease her a little bit. I used to love getting her riled up… haven't seen her in… forever."

"It's… all-right," I told him. I wasn't used to being the one making pardons.

"So what do you want to do today? My heat's not until Thursday so I've got nothing to do but hang around this town. You know. The usual celebrity treatment…Fuck, where'd I put my pants?" He rummaged around the bedside, picking apart the comforter and various pillows which had fallen off. "Somewhere round here.. anyways, why don't we go around town or something?"

"Too many fans," I said. He nodded: "Oh, right. The fans. I forgot, we aren't 'normal' people anymore. Well, we can always go up the mountain, can't we?"

Boarding? With Duo? I scratched my head. "I thought you were a skier."

"I am. I've got spares at the footlockers by the lifts. It'll be fun. Nobody'll be up there this time of day, anyways, they're all down at the stadium watching the speed skaters. Come on, man, let me show you how to have a little fun, yeah?" he gave me a cheshire smile.

"…Okay," I relented. "But only a warm-up. I have to conserve energy for today."

"It's cool, I understand. I'll go slow."

I snorted in disbelief. "You! Go slow on me? Now _that's _funny."

"Well, I'm a downhiller. You trying to tell me you can beat me in a race?"

"I can."

"We'll see, Yuy. We'll see." He threw on his shirt and I finished buttoning the top button on my snow pants, fishing a sleeveless shirt and my green fur-hooded jacket from the closet. "Got any spares?" he asked.

I tossed him an extra black snow jacket and a white beanie, and he threw them on over what he already had. I put on my snowboarding boots, grabbed my board, and we headed for the slopes.

* * *

"Come on, come _on,_" I snarled as I raced over mogul after mogul. After each dip in the snow my board made a little _chakka chak _noise; the snow was choppy today and it was too warm out to wear heavy clothes. If the sun stayed out they'd be needing to make snow for the actual race, and _that _would suck. There was nothing like fresh powder to make for a good run. But hey, nature will do what nature will do.

Duo was right in front of me. He hardly leaned into his turns, moving at a breakneck speed I thought was impossible. His braid flew out behind him as he bent over his poles in concentration. But I was coming closer. Inching further… further…

I twisted my knees, the board moved a little closer but not enough. I was moving faster than I had ever moved before; Duo's sport required speed and mine required finesse. His strong point was turning, though. I'd never cared to learn much about skiing, but his poles were bent oddly - this only made him go faster. He went over the bumps in the run like they didn't exist.

I hugged the ground, tilted my board to the left, and sailed off a mogul and down the double black a good ten feet. "No fair!" Duo called from behind me, and I pulled my goggles down tighter as I slammed into the curve on the mountain. As I went around I glanced a look behind me: Duo had disappeared!

I kept going. He was a big boy now, he could take care of himself.

And—he shot out of the trees in front of me.

Well, shit.

I put more weight into the front of my board, narrowly avoided catching an edge. We were coming to a pair of snowcat tracks that hadn't been covered over properly, and as soon as we rounded on them I saw Duo catch an edge and falter. I pulled ahead. _Yes! _I was in the lead now, though not by much. He was a quick little thing, and the only person I'd ever met who could keep up with me.

The wind was what did it. I came off the final hill like a bullet and practically sailed into the end of the run. _The Widowmaker, _I think it was called. I felt like I could have just kept going into the air and away, and never had to hit the ground at all. It was the greatest feeling in the world. Adrenaline surged through me like fire and I welcomed it, turning behind to see Duo speeding down just as I pulled my board to a stop.

He pulled up a split second behind me. "Damnit, if I hadn't caught those tracks.."

"Yeah, well." The corners of my mouth twitched up.

He stopped in the middle of taking his goggles off. "So, you won."

"J calls me the Perfect Boarder for a reason, you know."

"Hey, Perfect Boarder? You're hot when you smile."

"What?" My eyes widened. He thrust out a hand and pushed my chest and I went over backwards flailing awkwardly, collapsing into a snowpile flat on my back. _Oof._

He beamed. I glared. "So I was off guard," I said grudgingly.

He offered me a hand. "C'mon, we'll go to the lodge. They've got great cocoa."

* * *

You can't be a professional boarder and not also be a connoisseur of hot chocolate. It's a must. Usually they make it with water and mix, and pour it all into a giant dispenser, charging fifty cents a cup thank-you-very-much just because it's hot. The stuff tastes horrible, especially when they put those chemical marshmallows in there.

But this, I had to admit, was good. Made with actual milk and melted chocolate, with whipped cream all over the top of the cup and chocolate sauce drizzled over that. It was thick and creamy and smelled like heaven. I stared at my mug as Duo handed it to me, keeping one for himself with a knowing look. "This stuff is like an orgasm in a cup. I swear," he said, and we looked around. It was eleven, and though the slopes were empty this lodge was at ground level and it was _packed. _

"We won't find a seat, though," I said.

"So we'll make one. Come on."

He led me up the stairs to the second floor: Nope, no seating. He pulled me over to the hallway right by the maintenance office and then down that, until the murmur and din of the dining area could no longer be heard. It was deserted in here, though. He sat against the wall with a grin and wrapped his arms around his knees, one hand clutching his mug.

I sat down cross-legged next to him. For a few minutes neither of us talked, just drank our cocoa and stared at the opposite wall in a dazelike state. For him, I think, it was more a mental peace, but for me it was a struggle for control: We were alone. Here. In a hallway, together. And even though my mind screamed _no, you just met him_ my body was telling me something very different. Thank God for loose snow pants.

"Are you scared?" he asked me.

"No. I'll win," I said tightly.

"You're so sure about that, huh? Do you really want to win, or is it just because you think you have to?"

At this I blinked. Twice. "How do you know things like this about me?" I couldn't help asking, because what he said _was true. _I didn't want to win. I wanted to go home and live like a normal person. I wanted to get up at ten on Saturdays and eat cornflakes and watch music television and not have to worry about a damn thing in the world except being myself. I didn't want this, with the whole world watching. I felt like I was cooped up in a ball.

"I read people, Heero. That's what I'm good at. That's just what I see in you. Maybe I'm crazy, but… lots of times, the only thing people need is to be wanted."

"Yeah? And what if you're wrong?" I shot back. But my face was hot. So were other parts of my body.

"I don't think I am," he said quietly. "But you know, I lost the race. So I'm thinking now. And I think I owe you something."

"Hmm." I watched him warily from the corners of my eyes. His head was turned towards me, and I was taking great pains to stare at the opposite wall with complete conviction. _Mustn't give in… mustn't give in… mustn't throw Duo down on the floor and fuck the living daylights out of him… _

"Remember how I said when I meet someone I can tell if I like 'em or not?" he said then. I nodded, barely perceptible, my eyes sliding over to meet his in curiosity. He stared back at me, setting down his cocoa cup. "I like you, Heero," he said in a whisper against my ear.

This time he was the one who started the kiss, at first just the barest brush of lips, our noses practically touching at the very tips. And then when I didn't push him away (how could I? How could I have ever pushed him away when he was driving me literally insane?) he came back again, deepening it to a maddening intensity. I uncrossed my legs since they were cramping, and a second later felt a rustle of fabric as he maneuvered himself into my lap. His mouth pressed against mine, insistent, surprisingly soft. Relena's lips had always been cold and thin, but his were… different. This was nice.

I felt the hand on the top of my pants, fingers brushing over the first button.

"God, Duo, what is this?" I said, pulling away and leaning my head back against the wall.

"You won the race," he said slyly, "Consider it a gift." And then he kissed me again, distracting me from the steady progress of his hands over the fly. And then he was working the fabric down over my hips, to my thighs and down. Oh, _God, _I had an enormous hard-on, like some kind of blazing neon sign just underneath the thin fabric of my boxers. How embarrassing.

But he didn't seem to think so. On the contrary, he almost looked like he might chuckle when his hand came up to cup my crotch, fingers stimulating the nerves there into sudden reaction. He trailed two fingers down the frontside of my boxers and my breath hitched into a half-gasp. That, apparently, was all the motivation he needed.

He tugged my boxers down and I was aware that I was blushing like some kind of damn virgin, how stupid of me. But it had been _so _long. I couldn't remember the last time I'd done this with someone.

Duo didn't mind at all. He wrapped his fingers around me, sliding his hand down slowly and steadily with the kind of practice that came with… well, _experience. _

Have I mentioned that it felt like I'd been hit in the head with a bat marked _pleasure? _It was instantaneous and overwhelming. I was pressed against the wall, both legs stretched out. I didn't think I'd be able to keep in a sitting position if I wasn't. The loose fist tightened and moved expertly.

As the head of my cock started leaking he palmed it, used the precum to lubricate the steadily accelerating motion of his hand. I moaned and pressed my head against the wall futilely, but he wouldn't release my mouth. Good thing, too, because otherwise I would've been screaming. Damn, this was good. Fantastic. His other hand slid behind me to cup my rear, fingers exploring and setting alight new sensations as he moved to the rhythm of an invisible drummer.

My knees bent involuntarily as I got closer to release; he flicked his thumb over the most sensitive part of my slit and it sent shivers up my thighs. My muscles turned to jelly under his stroking. I'm not sure, but I think I had my eyes closed.

With a loud cry I came into his hands, ecstasy wrenching throughout my body and pulsing in time with my heartbeat. For a moment I could only hear myself breathing and nothing else.

"Duo…" I said, my voice faltering.

"Hmm?" he looked down at me as he was, straddling my lap with both knees on the floor and his hands still resting where they had been.

"That… good. You're good… at that." I tried to focus my thoughts; _speak English, Yuy. Come on, you can do it. Form a cohesive sentence! _But Duo laughed. "Yeah, well. I've learned my share of tricks. And now I'm sharing them with you."

I offered no explanation for what I did next, which was crush him against me in an embrace, even though the fronts of both our shirts were covered. "If we weren't in front of the maintenance office, I don't know what I'd do," I growled to him. And this was true. Honestly, I couldn't keep my cool anymore around him. It was like trying to slosh uphill against a river. I became this… thing. This needy thing.

I was half disgusted with myself. Was I such an idiot that I could be ruled by my body? By my impulses and desires? Odin would have disapproved, but then he always had; he'd been a military assassin long before I was born and even until I was in junior high, and he'd never shown a sliver of emotion. Everything for him was about control.

Odin, I thought, if only you could see me now.

Too bad he was dead.

I shivered.

Duo's body was warmer than I thought it would be, and he lifted his brows at me, his mouth opening: "Hey, it's okay. It was good, yeah?"

"Yeah. But I just can't think—"

"—So don't. You don't need to be thinking all the time, Heero. Just go and do what you want to do, do what makes you happy. Does it bother you to have me around?"

"No!" I protested.

"Then you," he said, leaning down to suck on my neck just below my jaw, "Are mine for now."

I wouldn't notice until later that I had a hickey in that spot. We spent the next twenty minutes or so like that, making out, and I actually liked it for once, not having to pretend anything or hide anything. But we had to pull apart eventually. "Mrrf, I need to get ready," I said, pushing myself to my feet. And suddenly I was all business again. "And cleaned up," I added, looking down at my shirt. The very base still had a bit of dried cum on it and my boxers were going to need serious cleaning. And one of us, probably me, had kicked over one of the cups of hot chocolate resting on the floor, and it had tipped its contents all over the ugly brown linoleum. Nobody would find the spill over here anyways, but if they did, it would be accompanied by some… _interesting… _fluids on the floor.

"Right-o, then," said Duo. "I guess this is where we part, eh?"

"No," I said, my eyes burning into him. "It's not."

He laughed. "Jeez! You're intense. I'm talking about getting ready for later on. I'm not gonna just leave you. I'm not looking for a one-night stand, okay? C'mere." He pulled me close, reached a hand around to my rear, and… pulled out my cell phone from my back pocket. "Here we go," he said proudly, making it beep a few times before handing it back to me. "S'my number. Tonight we're going out to celebrate whether you won or not. All of us. Now…"

I reached for the phone, and he held it out of arm's length, retrieving his own from the jacket he'd left on the floor. "I'm getting yours, hold _on _a second," he said when I made a face. He pinged mine into his phone and then handed it back to me. "Here. Tonight, okay?"

"I.. yeah," I said, surprised that anyone would want to be with _me. _I was cold. I had no sense of humor. I was just… me. Boring, frigid, Heero Yuy. Not for the first time I wondered what Duo could possibly see in me. "…Why?"

"Because we're on the same side, Heero. I don't want to help you or save you or any kind of shit like that. I just… like you."

"But _why? _I am not… fully functioning." The Robot Voice had returned.

"Can you explain how the engine in your car works? You can't, but you love it anyways because it's _you. _It jives to you. You're my engine. I guess that's the best explanation I can offer."

"This… makes some sense," I admitted. And suddenly, I don't know why, but I remembered my promise from earlier that morning: "And… I told Hilde I would meet her."

"Oh, right." He wrinkled his small nose in distaste. And somehow made it look sexy. "Her. Bitch-woman. Okay, have fun with that. What're the odds of her getting hired by _you?_"

"She tells me that her industry is a small one," I said, getting to my feet and starting the walk to the men's bathroom, a couple of doors over from the maintenance office and down a different hallway. "There are not many people who need a press manager."

"Yeah, well, she seems pretty buddy-buddy with you. I hardly ever see mine. He's kind of an odd guy, a pretty boy—his name's Zechs. Like, who names their kid _Zechs?_"

"Who names their kid _Duo?_" I shot back.

"Yeah, and Heero. That's high up on the list."

"So maybe _she's _the normal one. 'Hilde' is a pretty common German name I hear."

"Normal names do not make normal people," he said with a straight face. "Are you really just going to march into the bathroom looking like that?" We were standing outside the door.

"I think I will scare people," I said reasonably, "But… not as many as if I were to walk out into the main dining area like this."

"I love your reasoning," he snickered, and took one of my arms, snuggling into my shoulder. We went in. The current occupants stared, but didn't ask questions. For all they knew I had gotten covered in snow and it had melted through my shirt. I think they were more enthralled by the fact that we were both Olympic atheletes and walking amongst these 'mortals' as if we were, ourselves, human.

That's the thing about being famous. People think you're not human. They imagine you to be some kind of superhuman creature thing, and they treat you as such. People moved out of the way as I made my way to the sink, grabbed a couple of paper towels and began cleaning the mess off the bottom of my shirt. Duo did likewise, the both of us grinning at each other like idiots.

"You've got melted snow in your hair," he said, coming closer and brushing it off, and leaning against me to do so. I blinked, but did not flinch as I would have with anyone else. With anyone else I would have pulled away and snarled at them not to _touch _me, damnit, but with Duo I wanted to do the exact opposite. He could touch me anytime he liked.

When he kissed me in the middle of the bathroom I tossed my ball of paper towels over his shoulder and into the wastebasket, making the shot blindly as I pulled him in for a quiet moment of heaven. The men currently in the bathroom either stared openly or blushed and turned away.

Suddenly I knew. It was like I was back in highschool, when I'd met some girl at a party and just known, 'okay, tonight I'm going to lose my virginity'. I knew that tonight I would do the unthinkable. I hadn't been with Relena in six, almost seven months now, and during the last three months of our relationship we hadn't had sex at all, which made it almost an entire year. This thought scared me. But Duo had shown no desire to leave me. If this was going to be something long-term, then I was going to do this perfectly. I had to. Anything else would be unacceptable.

The shell which had been futilely trying to hold itself together, and which had been keeping me in, broke suddenly and violently apart with one kiss in the men's bathroom.

And it felt good.


	4. Chapter 4

Ack! Sorry for such a looooong wait between last chapter and this one! I've been horribly sick for quite some time and have only just begun to recover enough from the constant Nyquil to get my fingers on the keyboard. Thanks to Misty for getting right on beta-ing, even in the middle of the night. ;) My love for her is like rain.

As an added apology, this chapter is twice as long as my usual ones are. So there. Be happy.

_

* * *

_

_Top Ten Sexiest Atheletes_

_Number one on our list of personal favorites is Heero Yuy, the star boarder of the Canadian team. A rebel with the press and an all-around champion, Heero's bound to appear on the 27th in the Winter Olympics snowboard cross. Very little is known about his personal life, but girls, he's single! Mr. Yuy has been snowboarding for nearly his entire life, and has such prestigious accomplishments under his belt as winning the Diamond Cup in the Trelawney Smash, the grand title in the Z Tour and three consecutive first places in the annual Canadian Winter Games Championships. Mr. Yuy, however, was not available for comment at the time of publication._

There were pictures of me everywhere. Damnit. I turned the page.

_Number two on the Top Ten is Duo Maxwell, a crowd favorite! Leading the American Ski Team with four Grand Smash titles and a national league award, this blonde hails from southern California. With his no-worries attitude and a constant smile he's definitely the hunkiest guy in the red-white-and-blue! Having suffered a knee injury last year he's just come from the pits and forced his way to the top once more, and this time around he's ready to compete. See him on the slopes!_

How did Duo smile like that, so openly, I wondered? I was almost jealous of his ease with the camera, his photogenic looks and almost feylike features.

Quatre was third, Trowa was fourth, and Wufei himself was fifth. I went on to read the other three articles before lowering the magazine: "What about it?"

"Aren't you excited?" Hilde said, sounding more than excited enough for both of us. "You've made the teen girl magazine scene. Do you know how _hard _that is?"

"I don't know why I'm first," I said confusedly. "I truly don't."

"Heero, honey, I feel sorry for you sometimes. Looked in the mirror lately?" Hilde raised one eyebrow. "You're a walking Adonis. Relena doesn't know what she's missing." The second the words were out of her mouth she made a little _aah _and realized her mistake too late.

Suddenly I put down the magazine with a short _whap_. My face darkened. "Don't talk about her," I snapped, my voice too loud over the silence of my personal dressing room. To the right and left were more atheletes, and they could probably hear through the walls. My nostrils flared as I tried to control my breathing, knowing what would happen next if an anger attack seized…

It had happened before, often, when we first split. I would go into this blind rage and start throwing things around and throwing whoever was within reach against the nearest wall. Nothing was safe. The worst time had been right after it had begun…

_"Heero, kid, I know you're pissed off right now, I know your girlfriend's gone and you're depressed and whatever, but your dad said in his will—" the first time J had come to me had been the first time I'd really lost it, and the worst._

_"Odin was not my father."_

_"Odin. He said in his will, you know, he wanted you to go on snowboarding and training with someone professional. He hired me for you. He paid me in advance. Odin left all his cash to you, kid, and he's got… millions lined up, maybe billions, let me tell you, you have no idea. More'n half of it's in offshore bank accounts your mom probably never even caught a whiff of. Basically, kid, I'm here to teach you."_

_"Get out."_

_"Kid, look, don't push this—this was what he wanted for you—you've been putting this off six months for some girl, you've got to listen to the damn will sometime. You're the named executor in case of your mother's death, so it's up to you."_

_"I'm the executor. Is that it?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Then I'm executing this: Get the fuck out of my house. I've had enough of lawyers and friends of Odin's. I hate you all."_

_"Kid…"_

_"I SAID GET OUT!" And then everything was blind for a few moments while things smashed around me. I was smashing them. They weren't smashing themselves, obviously, but it was weird to know that I was in control and I was the one making all this destruction happen… a good feeling… I could get used to this…_

_And then I'd felt someone, one of J's bodyguards, tackle me and throw me to the ground. I'd completely hauled him off me and with adrenaline on my side slung him into the wall, cracking the plaster. There were four of his little cronies in all, and the second one coming at me met the same fate via pushing onto the coffee table. Another two dogpiled me, and well, that was too much, my body just couldn't handle it and I remember slumping down with only my head and shoulders free._

_And then J had come over and crouched down right next to my face, got real close, and said, "Heero, you keep this all inside and you're going to explode. Even you aren't above the law. You don't take this out the right way, it'll use you, and you'll kill someone, eventually. I'll show you how to get rid of it the right way – fire like that, I can put it to use. You could get to the Olympics. You could fly if you had snow under you, I'm telling you, I can get you to do it. You've gotta trust me though and sign these papers. It's what Odin would've wanted, kid. I'm the best there is if you're looking for a coach and your father and I… well, you could say we were good friends." He twirled his moustache. I hated people who twirled their facial hair. "He'd be real happy if you did this."_

_I had liked hurting that bodyguard._

_I had enjoyed it._

_I could do it again to this old guy, and he'd be dead, just like that, I'd be a murderer._

_But I wouldn't. I could use this, I realized. I could make this into a power to be reckoned with: The power of emotions. If I kept all my emotions locked away so none could escape, then I could put all the ones I had inside me to use and use them to help me be the best. If I didn't use this it would use me._

_I scowled. "I'll sign."_

Staring at Hilde, I half-expected to feel the usual slight insanity nudging at the back of my mind. But I didn't go into an anger attack this time. What stopped me? It felt like there was a plug pulled on all my fire and all my determination to _kill the shit _out of Hilde just for saying Relena's name. All of it was drained out.

Duo wouldn't like it if I did that to her. Even if she was his ex. I knew him enough to know that.

And that made me laugh a little, just chuckling under my breath. Like those _what would Jesus do?_ Bumper stickers, I could probably manage to get one that said _what would Duo do? _That's how obsessed I was getting. I was allowing myself to become weak. To become vulnerable, and frail, and easily susceptible to breaking.

No. I was allowing myself to feel human.

"Sorry," I muttered.

Hilde unclenched her fists, drew away from the wall: "What?"

"I said sorry, damnit," I said. "Sorry for not being a better friend. Sorry for not just coming the hell out with you when you asked me. Sorry for ignoring your phone calls and texts for two fuckin' years. Sorry for not letting you touch me."

"…Where did this come from? God, Heero, you don't have to apologize, but God, it feels good to hear you say that, honey. I worry about you." I sagged down onto the couch provided next to the hangers where my boarding outfit was stored, and she sat down next to me, composed as always. She swiped a few strands of bluish-black hair out of her face. "Nobody's perfect. You don't have to say sorry."

A sudden flicker of something. _Amusement, _I recognized it as.

"Sorry for sleeping with your ex," I said in that same flat tone.

"Hon, it's o—_what?_"

"I am… telling you. That I am going to sleep with Duo. And I'm sorry."

For a second there I thought maybe Hilde had caught on to the anger-attack idea and was going to have a frenzy of her own. But she composed herself just in time.

She sniffed. "He's a bastard anyways. You can have him." She turned her face away, but not before I caught sight of her expression. She looked like she might cry. I had _never _seen Hilde cry, in all the time I had known her. Not once. She was always happy. "I never really had a chance anyways." Now she sounded weary.

"Hilde," I said. I didn't know how to comfort people, so that's what I said. Her name.

"Well, it hurts a bit, you know. I mean, I was in love with you for a while, there, and put yourself in my place! Working for the guy you like and then suddenly your _ex _comes swooping down out of a cloud and sweeps him off his feet, I never saw _that _coming." She bit her lower lip. She was ranting. "Shit, I'm going on again. But I wanted to ask you something and I wasn't sure how you'd react, I thought you'd go into one of those frenzies again and I'd have to call in security and it would create a huge scandal so I didn't want to ask you but God I really do and I'm sorry but Heero do you really want to do this?"

"What?" I couldn't follow her. She'd spoken way too fast for me to understand.

"This, the race, the… Duo, the Olympics," she said, waving her hands for emphasis.

"You are asking me if I want to compete in the Olympics," I stated. The Robot Voice had turned itself back on. Maybe it was my body's idea of a safety mechanism, like an automatic parachute ripcord.

"Ah… yes." She was calming down a little bit.

"I do not know. I enjoy snowboarding. But not for crowds, not like a dog on a pedestal that jumps when the judges tell it to. And I hate all the attention with the press. I hate the fans, every last one of them. I'm afraid if I don't do this, though, I may never snowboard again, and then I will turn to other things to release… pressure." The Robot Voice droned on. She nodded as if she understood every word, which maybe she did. She probably knew me better than any other woman I knew. Hilde wasn't an idiot; she had a MBA. She'd had several six-figure-salary jobs before this one. She was a pretty, smart girl, and what was she doing working for me, I wondered? I was a lunatic.

"To release pressure," she repeated. "Have you considered seeing a doctor?"

"For what?" I snapped.

"Nevermind," she said. She was walking on thin ice and she knew it. "Don't bother. But the other part of the question… are you going to answer it?"

I thought back to what she'd asked. "You want to know about Duo."

"Yeah."

"I met him at the club I went to," I said. "He is different." Robot Voice was serving me well. At this rate I wouldn't have to betray _any _kind of emotion at all. Perfect. "He treats me like… a friend. Not a boss and not a business associate and not family, but a friend."

"And you met him three days ago and you're screwing him already."

"Not yet," I admitted. My Robot Voice cracked a little bit, revealing some of my normal tone beneath. I hated to admit it but I was a scared little kid inside at the thought of actually doing that with Duo, not like I hadn't before with plenty of guys, but still. He was different. The relationship was sexual _and _platonic; how often did relationships like that come along? And then I remembered the hand job in the hallway and I actually flushed red.

"You're flushing red," she informed me. "Are you, maybe, nervous?"

"No," I said firmly.

"I could tell you some things," she said.

I gave her a confused _what the hell are you talking about, woman _look. This consisted of one eyebrow raised very high and my elbow perched on my knee, chin in hand. She, in return, gave me a sultry _you know exactly what I'm talking about _glance. The silent exchange was immediate.

"I mean. What he likes and all that."

"I thought you didn't want us together," I said quickly. "You were angry this morning." Merely stating facts, nothing more.

"Surprised, not angry," she insisted. "Besides, I want to help you out, I guess."

"Fine. Tell me," I ordered, trying to look as uncaring as possible. Like I really didn't want to know the answer and if she told me, then so be it. I'm sure I came off more as looking half-desperate and half-curious like a kid in a freak show museum.

"Well. He thinks it's really kinky when his partner covers himself in marmalade and wears women's underwear, just to name a few."

…

…_Oh, God…_

My brain tried to wrap around this and failed, sputtering and dying in a cloud of shiny mental sparks.

Hilde burst out laughing. "I'm KIDDING, Heero. Kidding. Joke. Me, joking, ha-ha? God, the look on your face." She went off into a spasm of giggles. "Marmalade…_marmalade... _as if. Where the hell did I get that from?"

"Hilde, I will kill you in your sleep," I threatened, and I was only half-joking.

She giggled softly and leaned in close. "No, but really… he has a nickname. Scythe. Call him that and he's yours."

I blinked at her. She blinked at me. I shrugged into my oversuit as I gave her a wary look-over: "Why… are you telling _me?_ He's your ex, for chrissake, you're supposed to be pissed off that I'm with him in the first place."

And Hilde, good woman that she was, just kept on smiling. "Heero, I've realized something over the last month or so, and after today I think it's hit home. I want you to be happy, that's all. And if I can help you do that… then I'm happy, too, I guess."

"Even though you're in love with me." I wasn't going to play word games. I'd never been known for being tactful and discreet like a woman.

She sighed. "Yes, Heero. Even though I'm in love with you. That sounds so soap-opera, doesn't it? But yeah, it's true. I'm not saying I think Duo's good for you, because he's not, and sometime we're going to get together for coffee and I'm going to tell you every last one of his personal secrets out of revenge. But for now… last couple of days you've been sparkling, and I mean _happy. _That's not normal for you. I kinda like having around a not-homicidal Heero, y'know? And you're my boss, it wouldn't work anyways." She looked like she was about to pat me on the shoulder, but still didn't quite dare touch me.

I zipped up the front of the body-tight jumpsuit. What was this stuff, aerodynamic spandex or something? Clothing was not my forte. I stared down at myself: Emblazoned with the Canadian flag on both sides. Well, wasn't _this _nice.

* * *

It was fifty minutes to race time.

J burst into the room suddenly: "Sorry, had to get some shit done," he said gruffly. "Hey, kid, how're you holding up? Not getting the butterflies, are you? Oh, right, you're never nervous, my fault." He grinned behind his enormous glasses and preened his mustache a little in the corner mirror. I gave a small, indiscernible grunt and sat down on the couch, lacing up my boots.

_Scythe… what kind of bizarre nickname is that? Maybe it's an inside joke._

I could imagine, just for a second, that I was on the slope again and Duo was whizzing in front of me. Just once I would like to take that braid down like he'd claimed to have done years ago. Just once I would like to… eh, well, that was a different tangent. But the thoughts remained, and I couldn't afford to get aroused _here. _The jumpsuit wouldn't hide anything if I did.

Wing was lying by the door, looking surprisingly tattered for a board that was cared for as well as it was. I picked it up and shoved it under my arm, shifting it a little as I fumbled around the desk area for my helmet: "J, where'd you put my—"

"Over there, by the cabinet," he pointed, then went back to talking to Hilde about something-or-other. I almost, almost smiled. They knew me too well.

With my equipment in tow, I stood in front of the door. "I'm leaving," I announced.

"Oh, hang on, you damn worrier, we've got forty minutes," J said lazily. I shot him a glare of death and he put both hands up: "Okay, let me grab my jacket. This is just the prelims, you don't have to be all antsy yet."

* * *

I lined up.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. GO. _I shot off and my mind hazed over. Down the slopes, down the hills, jump here, mogul there, rail to the left and then to the right… more jumps, a few patches of ice, a box or so and then _yes _I'd already cruised into the finish line.

I turned to face the TV cameramen and the throng of people surrounding the base of the run. Their expressions registered as shock and awe in my mind: Good. I'd done this the right way. I looked back up the hill as other boarders whooshed into their stops a good five seconds behind me.

"A-a-and Heero… Yuy of the Canadian team is in first!" A voice shouted tentatively. "In a record-shattering time for a preliminary trial as well!"

The crowd roared.

I grabbed Wing and an over-jacket, slipping it on, and walked to the center of the finishing circle, staring at the mob. People screamed, threw all kinds of microphones and electronic devices in my face. Cameras flashed. _I'll be frowning in all of them, you bastards, _I thought silently, and waited for the bodyguard escort that was quickly approaching the contestants, Hilde and J leading them. Hilde was grinning like a fool. I turned away.

An arm grabbed the collar of my snow jacket. "Heero!"

I knew that voice. I turned around to snarl something to them, whoever they were, but then it registered as being _Duo's _voice and I halted altogether. He was standing just behind me, looking at me with a worried expression. "You did great. You okay?"

"I'm fine," I said stoically. Duo. _He likes to be called Scythe. _

"Mr. Yuy, is this a family member!" one woman asked hysterically from the sidelines. I turned to her, unsure what to say.

"Nope," Duo answered from the sidelines with a grin. "I'm moral support. Duo Maxwell." He wasn't the slightest bit perturbed at not being recognized by the reporter. He gave me a lazy wink and turned back to the run, giving me his profile. "Get back up there. I'm VIP so I get to be wherever I want, yeah? I'll stay down here." He popped a thumbs-up sign at me.

Just then Hilde arrived and narrowed her eyes at him.

"What are _you _doing on the boarder's run?"

"I already said I was moral support." The thumbs-up turned into the middle-finger. "I thought they kept trash off the snow, though."

"Oh, shut the—Heero, let's get on the lift," Hilde snapped, pulling her furred jacket tighter around herself, the Canadian flag on the back crinkling. Underneath the jacket she was wearing a no-nonsense navy skirt and dark blouse, snow boots coming up to mid-thigh. One of said boots kicked a bout of snow in Duo's direction as she stomped off ahead of me.

And, like a good little obedient person, I followed.

* * *

_To the left right over this hill okay down what is that guy doing okay he's pulling ahead of me speed up turn slightly cut him off cut the other one off to the left to the right to the left again mogul and another mogul and now there's the funbox jump okay got it what's that up ahead oh right that's the mound jump okay here's the rail but I'm going to skip it and there's another jump crouch down and soar off the end that's good okay down down down YES__

* * *

_

"Yuy does it again!" The announcer shouted.

Every time I pulled in first. Every time there was no challenge. An Italian boarder came up to me and tried to give me a good-job pat on the back. I shied away. Two from the Americans gave me dirty looks as they got back on the lift. I ignored them. My only goal was to compete and survive, compete and survive, compete and survive… the mantra spiraled through my thoughts like a good luck talisman.

_Compete and survive._

A haze settled over my thoughts. I did not respond to cameramen and women. I left the press-talking to Hilde and J, who followed me from run to run doggedly. I'm not sure I said anything all day, because what could I have said? I wasn't full of sagely, feel-good advice that they could put on a Cheerios box. I didn't have any love for the sport other than to keep my homicidal tendencies from showing themselves.

I wondered if I was dangerous without a snowboard in my hands. Would I snap altogether one day and just start killing people right and left? Maybe I could hire a big muscleman to follow me around and tackle me if I went insane. But no, that would be annoying, I hated dealing with more people than I had to---

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep. _Go!_

I slammed out of the gate in first. This was insane, this feeling—I really was flying, wholly and truly. Wing was soaring through the air after every jump. The board had been custom made for me, and I loved it… the salesman had said I wouldn't be able to handle it, but he was wrong…

_Left right left right left right left right_

I thought about what everyone would say when I won. I'd have to face them all and probably say something then, or at least make a halfway decent speech at the award ceremony. I'd have to take that medal and smile like an idiot…

_Straight down jump bend the knees cut this corner here dig your nose in_

I wondered if Relena would be watching on some obscure TV somewhere. Maybe she'd be at her family's now, moved out of the apartment we used to share. Probably not though. I'd never met her family and she'd never talked about them, so I assumed she didn't have much contact with them, and less reason for her to be at their house, so that meant she was home alone, or maybe she'd already found someone else to fuck …

_That makes me so fucking angry speed up bend the knees faster faster faster_

If Odin and my mom were here they'd probably be cheering me on or something cheesy like that. No, wait. My mother would be cheering. Odin would be his usual stoic, uncaring self. He hadn't been my father, but maybe I'd inherited more than I'd thought from him. Maybe more of his teachings had rubbed off on me than I'd have liked…

_Almost there this is the last stretch the man on your left is pulling ahead NO_

I wonder what Duo thought of all this, and if he could see me on the cameras. Probably. He could probably see me now. The crowd at the base of this last hill was enormous. I'd never seen so many gathered in one place. Not at any of the competitions I'd been in before, at least. God, God, God, I was afraid of this, but I had to do it…

_One last push_

And the finish line was behind me.

* * *

I'd pulled only a few feet ahead of Jaques Ranoire, French team, and he was now giving me the ugliest scowl I'd ever seen on a human being. I stared right back, the bastard. I'd won but there was no joy in the victory. It was sort of like, _oh, that's all?_

The noise was insane. People were jumping up and down and the entire mass behind me was one flesh-colored blob broken up by the odd country's flag (Canada was prominent, I saw) and there was confetti and mess and sparklers and little whistle-toys everywhere. The winner's circle was suddenly crowded with the boarders as they each pulled into the finish.

I didn't have time for fear to take over at the sight of so many people. I was ushered off to the side and through the side-flap of a tent pitched at the bottom of the run. The Olympic five-ring sigil was emblazoned on the side. Inside were the families of the competitors and, as usual, their personal employees. I was hassled and battered around and eventually stripped of my over-jacket by someone (I didn't see whom) and showed out the other side of the tent.

There was a round raised pedestal out front about twenty feet in diameter where we were expected to stand. I looked out at the sea of moving bodies, and had a microphone thrust under my chin, not for the first time. I was drenched in sweat and somebody had thrown a towel around my neck (though I hadn't caught who, again) and I unzipped my suit, just enough to let some of the freezing air in. I hadn't realized how far I had pushed my own body until now. I was panting for breath, eyes halfway closed as I stared at the black screen of the mic and wondered what the hell to say.

"Mr. Yuy, how did you manage to get in first place every run?" the man asked me.

I turned to the cameraman as he snapped at me for my attention. I gazed into the lens: time to act. "I wanted it badly enough," I said in a cold tone.

"I… see. So what about your family, how do you think they'll feel about this?"

"I have no family."

"What about your future? Any plans from here on out you'd like to share?"

"I don't know," I said.

"Well… are you going to come to the Olympics next year?"

"I don't know."

"Will you continue to train after this?"

"I don't know."

"Is there anyone you'd like to thank for this victory?"

"I don't—wait, yes." _No, not really. _But I did, sort of, owe them this much. "Hilde and J, my press manager and coach." They were shuffled in from the side and pushed on camera with me, the lens panning to catch both their surprised, but pleased faces. Hilde wrapped an arm around J's waist and mine and said, "Yep! These are the two men in my life!" In a bubbly, cheerful voice. The cameraman laughed with her. "We'll be at the ceremony tomorrow cheering him on, don't worry," she assured him.

"Yeah," I said dismally. "I'm excited."

Anything but. Nervous as hell, more like.

* * *

I couldn't think. There was something wrong with me, there had to be. I'd just won the fucking Olympics and here I was, lying on my hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. I should've been partying. I should've been out celebrating with Duo, but here I was, just thinking… about Odin, about my mother, about Relena. Swallowed in guilt and misery. I was such an angsty little ball of horrors it was a wonder I didn't self-implode.

That shell that had been protecting me from the world had dissolved when I'd met Duo. Now what could I do? I couldn't reveal myself to him, I couldn't tell him how I felt, I was sure. I didn't have the balls to do it. So when he called, I didn't pick up the phone. Twice. Then three times. I ignored the ring altogether.

"Sorry, Duo," I said to the pillow as I rolled over when the phone rang for the fourth time.

I did not, however, expect it to be followed by a knock on the door.

I groggily stood up and opened it, peering through the crack.

"You weren't answering your phone, you idiot," Duo said, making his way into the room and looking around. "I figured you'd up and left town or something. God."

"No," I said.

"So you don't want to come out with us?"

"I…" I paused. Something was very wrong here. All of a sudden I wanted to fuck him more than usual, and it was almost overwhelming—

--Oh, God.

"Duo. Your hair… is red," I said, shocked. So that's what had changed.

"Yeah. You like? I felt like a change," he said, pulling his braid over one shoulder. "And you said you were into redheads. Besides, I didn't feel like brown or black, too boring. I used to be a brunette anyways."

His hair had gone from a golden colour to a streaked, gold-and-autumn red head of straight, glossy locks. His hair was… perfect. Sexy. Irresistible. I took the braid from him and couldn't help but breathe in the scent of conditioner and shampoo. Delicious.

"I want… you to take your hair down," I said, and as soon as I'd said it, I regretted it. He'd think I was a goddamn _idiot _for making a request like that. Hadn't he told me himself all it did was get in the way?

"Okay," he said, and smiled.

"I didn't mean that, I—what?"

"But… you've gotta come out with me first. We'll trade favors."

"Oh, bloody fucking _okay,_" I said with mock irritation.

"I get to pick your outfit."

"That's just being overly queer."

"S'what I do best. I'm serious, Heero, let me dress you. I could do it damn well."

I'd never let anyone but him touch me for a very long time. I didn't know if I could… but… he'd never given me any reason to believe that he'd do anything I didn't want. I could trust him, sort of. So when he motioned me over to the bed and pushed me down onto it, forcing me to sit on the edge, I complied with easy grace, trying not to look like a twelve-year-old.

"Mmnkay then. Olympic Canada-print snowsuit comes off."

"What?"

"Do I have to _undress_ you, too? I've already done it twice," he said with a smirk.

"I can do it," I said, and did, shucking the suit I hadn't bothered to remove after leaving the run area. I unzipped the front and peeled it off my chest: Hey, I noticed in the mirror, I didn't look half bad for having come out of an Olympic run. I certainly didn't look any different. I had always had trouble putting on weight as a kid, but now that I was grown up, I had a kind of… I don't know, easy definition to my body. Sculpted but not huge. Long and lanky, not compact. Duo and I had pretty much the same body type, though he was slimmer and less muscular; more aerodynamic-ness, I supposed.

I was in only the tight black underwear that went on underneath the suit. It had been riding up my ass all this time and was incredibly uncomfortable, but I'd been too lazy to take it off.

"Go get in the shower," he said, as if this should have been obvious. "Can't go clubbing when you're not clean."

"Shit," I muttered, and he looked up from the pair of pants he was picking a piece of lint from. "Hmm?" he asked.

"Nothing," I growled, and darted for the bathroom. I'd gotten a sudden hard on, just from him saying that one line. _Get in the shower. _The ski suit and underwear, unfortunately, hid nothing, so I was glad he hadn't seen. Funny how such a dumb little phrase could… do that to me. Funny, and awkward.

Under the shower spray I heard him whistling as he rummaged through my suitcase and the stuff I'd hung up in the closet, which wasn't much. I wasn't a neat sort of guy unless I found an actual need for being so, in this case, keeping certain articles of clothing from crimping.

He popped his head into the bathroom and I sucked in a breath. "Allright, I'm done," he proclaimed with a grin.

"Jesus, you scared me," I said, eyes wide.

"Hmm." He looked at me where I was, cornered inside the shower stall, and then put a set of clothes on the floor opposite the shower door. "Try 'em on. And believe me when I say they'll look good."

I gave him an odd look, and he retreated, shutting the door. I stepped out of the spray, turned the water off, and snatched a towel off the rack, wrapping it around my waist before holding up what he'd given me. Hmm, what kind of shirt _was _this? I didn't think I'd even bought anything like this before. I held it up to the light.

It was a dark, burgundy-red sleeveless shirt with a dipping neckline and was little more than a wifebeater in itself. There was some kind of black digitalized logo on the front, the words too slurred to see, and a white crucifix emblazoned on the back. It was loud, and called attention to the wearer. _I am not wearing this, _I decided.

I picked up the pants. Now _these _were just outrageous. Black, and leather, and I'd probably have to be poured into them if I wanted to fit. Who the hell had given me these? Probably Hilde on a prank at some point—she'd helped me pack--- and there was no way I could possibly wear these out, they'd be uncomfortable as all hell, I could just tell.

I told Duo so. "I'm not wearing these, just so you know," I said crossly through the door.

"Yes, you are, or I'm forcing you into them, pretty-boy," he called back effortlessly, his sultry voice carrying even through the wood of the door. I stared down at the clothing and had no doubt that if anyone but Duo had tried to force me into them they'd have a couple of broken limbs.

But I was powerless.

I sighed. All the fight drained out of me. The clothes went on, the pants a bit hard to pull up. But eh, the underwear I'd been wearing all day had been more uncomfortable than these turned out to be. Actually, they weren't half bad. I turned to the mirror and stared at myself.

Hey, I looked okay.

No, I looked… good. Like a guy Cinderella all ready for the ball. If the 'ball' was a club full of hypeheads and drunkies with Olympic athletes all over the place. But it was… I don't know, embarrassing… to see myself like this. Like part of me was being unveiled that didn't want to be.

"You done yet?" Duo called.

I opened the door and stepped out meekly. I was met with a sudden body pressing against me and lips against mine, a hand snaking around to grab my ass. I was… surprised, but pleased nonetheless. He was into this, which was a good sign; his tongue pressed into my mouth insistently and I reciprocated with a meeting of my own. Duo gave a moan and a shiver against me, pulling his mouth away only long enough to trail his other hand lazily up my spine. It tickled a little. "Damnit, sorry. You look… well, I thought you'd look hot, but I guess I lost control." He grinned up at me, seizing my lips again. "I want you so fucking bad, Heero," he whispered, teeth grazing my lower lip.

"Now," I said urgently. "Damnit, now—"

"No," he said. "Not yet. After tonight. I'm gonna make this good."

"Then we need to get tonight over with before I explode," I said really quickly, kissing him with a ferocity I didn't know was inside me. Like it was burning to get out, alive and independent of myself. I wanted to be _inside _him, as dirty and uncharacteristic as that sounded in my own mind. I wanted all of him. I wanted the side he didn't give to other people. I wanted to make him moan like he did now, stretched out like a cat in my arms and all but purring with pleasure. Wine colored hair was a nice touch, and it glimmered red-gold in the light from the ceiling fan.

"Cab's gonna leave if we don't move," Duo said. "I already called."

"Oh, fuck the cab," I said, pulling away. "Fine. Let's go." I looked down at him, seeing he'd brought the clothes he needed to change and had already donned them. A dark green shirt that laced up the front with a black satin ribbon, sleeveless as usual, and black denim that hugged his hips. His slightly paler skin showed through and he was beautiful, feylike, exotic in a way, the color of his hair contrasting with the green and black sobriety of his clothing.

* * *

The cab ride lasted too long.

As we walked into Charisma for the third time, Duo's cell rang and he flipped it open: "Yeah? Where are you guys? …uh-huh. Nah, we just got here. Yeah, I brought him. –shut up." He chuckled. "Yeah. Bye." Snapping the phone shut, he pointed off to the side: "They're over there in the back chamber."

I hadn't even known there was a 'back chamber' at all. This club must've been at least twice as huge as I'd thought before. As we headed through a dark red curtain, I spotted Quatre, Trowa, Wufei and Kit Lorenza off to the side of the room, lounging in a veiled booth, drinks already in hand. Looked like tonight was a mixed-drink night, because everyone had something different. Quatre had a tall red glass in front of him with something frothy that was bubbling.

"How gay," Duo said snarkily at the glowing glass as we slid in.

"It's good," Quatre said brightly, completely undaunted by the insult. "Heero! Congratulations on the medal, you must be so proud!" he grinned at me, and I shrugged nonchalantly. He then went on: "Me and Trowa are gonna go up to the bar later, do you two want to… er, come?" he paused, and suddenly gave Duo a weird look. "Your hair. You dyed it, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Like it? And about the bar…no, we're all-right," Duo answered. "Unless you want to, Heero?"

I remembered the bartender from the other night, the one with the attitude. "No. He might recognize me as the… well…" I thought of the way I'd beaten those two men's faces in. The bartender might have made the connection. If he was on-duty I didn't want to take any chances. Duo seemed to get what I was talking about, because he suddenly nodded. "Oh, right. No. Definite no. We'll stay down here."

Quatre shrugged. "Mmkay. Why'd you just decide to go redhead, again?"

"I found a reason," Duo said, and flicked me in the shoulder with two fingers.

Kit giggled from the side. "You did very well, _senor Yuy,_" she said in heavily accented English. "Where I come from, there is… not snow. You were very good on the snow. You were almost…" she struggled for the word: "Almost flying, no?"

"Uh," I said, "Thank you." The gratitude seemed odd coming from me.

_Almost able to fly. _That's what they'd told me when I'd dropped out of flight school. _Just a few more months and you'd have been a pilot, no sweat, a damn good fighter pilot if there ever was one. You're cut out for being in the air._

"_De nada,_" she replied, waving her hand dismissively. Wufei scootched over closer to her and put his arm around her lower waist, probably curling his hand over her thigh if her blush and settling of her head on his shoulder were any indication.

I wondered… if that would work on Duo. Hmm.

The thought struck me impulsively. I wanted to try this like Relena and I had used to do when we'd still been together. I slid my hand under the table and onto Duo's left knee, which was closest to me. He didn't stiffen, but I saw his eyes slide sideways to meet mine. Just the barest hint of a question.

I drew a line from his kneecap up to his hip with my pointer finger, keeping my eyes perfectly on Quatre as he talked about the events of tomorrow. His hands, folded in his lap, squeezed together subconsciously.

"'Cause the award ceremony tomorrow is for all the men snowboarders. The slalom was yesterday…" I slid my hand over his hipbone, over the indentation between his crotch and thigh, just the barest tickle as it moved for more dangerous zones. He settled forward in his seat, elbows on the table. The waitress came and asked for our drinks; I shifted my hand so that it rested firmly between his legs.

"Vodka soda," I told her. Duo's arousal swelled slowly beneath my fingers. He choked out: "Uh—the same, whatever_fuck_" I stroked one finger lightly over the fabric of his pants, the touch transferring through the thin denim and to the supersensitive flesh below.

"Duo, you okay?" Quatre asked.

"Yeah, fine, just… uh… stubbed my… toe," he said in slow, panting breaths as I started to stroke one hand up and down the area, then paused to work the zipper down.

"Oh. Sucks. So yeah, we're going down to Harvey's after tomorrow's ceremony and then probably sightsee around the town until…"

I slipped my hand inside his jeans and straight onto his erection. Okay, so the old practice was coming back to me. I'd given handjobs before, obviously, and been told I was quite talented (when was I _not _talented at something? It seemed as if anything I endeavored to learn, I immediately learned) by numerous partners. I just hadn't done it in a while, that was all. Good to know I still had it.

Maybe I wasn't as much of a robot as I'd previously thought.

I slid my hand over his shaft, down to the base, and began fisting him in a slow, commanding pace. He sank down a little onto the table, eyes fluttering, but maintained a sitting position. Amazing how nobody even noticed my arm moving; well, we were sitting so close, nobody would be able to tell unless they peeked under the tablecloth.

"What with gas and all that, we ended up pushing the car halfway to…"

My hand brushed the tip of his cock and he made a noise like a starving puppy, so softly nobody could hear if they weren't listening over the murmur of the back chamber. Quatre and Wufei talked on, oblivious to us.

Hmm, interesting. He was uncircumcised. I slid the tip of his foreskin back and touched the pads of my fingers to the exposed nerve endings, sending a feeling akin to a thousand electric shocks up the length of his groin. I knew this from experience, and also from the fact that his legs turned to nothing and he braced his elbows against the table, barely remaining cognizant at all. He was keeping a scream in from the look on his face. He'd come any moment, I was sure.

I plucked the napkin from my lap (an old habit) and balled it up as I gave his weeping cock one last touch. He grabbed the cloth, slammed it into his crotch, and bit down on his lower lip to keep from crying out as he orgasmed—hard. His head and shoulders slumped down on the table entirely between Quatre's red-drink-of-whatever and the centerpiece, a bubbling lava lamp.

I smirked.

"And then we—hey! Duo, you okay?"

"Yeah, just tired," he slurred after a few seconds. "Sorry. Long day."

"…You aren't sick or anything, are you? Should you be out if you're like this?"

"Fuck off, man. I can handle it," he said with a lopsided grin to make sure Quatre knew he didn't mean it. "I feel good, actually. Amazing. Yeah." His head fell back onto the tablecloth, and after a stunned second or so Quatre, Trowa and Wufei chuckled. Quatre, still laughing, picked up his glowing drink and raised it to his lips.

The glass was covered in beads of perspiration and it slipped through his fingers just as he lifted it, spilling all over his face and down the front of his shirt. It was only a quarter full, but he was still soaked.

"Oh! I'm so clumsy," he said, dabbing at it with part of the tablecloth. "I never get this—"

"Here," Trowa offered, possibly the first word I'd heard him say all night. "Let me." He was wearing a longsleeved black shirt; he raised his sleeve and wiped the liquid from Quatre's cheek, staring at his eyes all the while. They made contact and a line of magnetism swept between them, Trowa's hand pausing on the napkin. All of a sudden he leaned in and kissed the blonde, his bangs obscuring his expression from the rest of us.

Quatre gave a _mmf _and set the glass aside, cleaving to Trowa and pressing his hands against the man's chest as he was enfolded in two arms. And then, to all of our shock, Trowa actually looked up at the blonde and smiled.

They started kissing again and Quatre pressed against the back of the seat as Trowa was caught up in the heat of the moment, pursuing his lips with intensity. Duo and I turned our heads towards each other and started laughing at the same moment Wufei murmured a suggestion to Kit and they left the booth.

"We've had our drinks," Duo said, having recovered pretty well though his face was still flushed. "I consider that a night out."

"Then…?" I said, almost not daring to hope.

"Yeah. Let's go," he said with a wink. "They'll still be here in a few hours, I bet you. Honestly, Heero—under the fucking _table?_"

"I was repaying your favor," I said honestly.

"Yeah, well, can't say I wasn't grateful," he said seductively. "That was hot and I'm not even gonna ask where you learned to do that. I thought I was the better one at these things."

"Everyone's got their special talents," I said, and we left.

* * *

The entire ride home I was… a mix of feelings. Anxious, enamored, definitely turned on, but not… well, it was hard to put the last emotion to words. Fear, maybe, was the closest thing I could get. A good kind of fear, though, and not enough to outweigh the want. God, I wanted him. Sure, it'd been a while, but that wasn't enough to stop the carnal feeling, the _pull _and I was going to explode.

I realized we weren't at my hotel. It had begun to snow.

"Where's this?" I asked, looking at the ivory-on-brass shine of hotel doors as they swung open, as a doorman whisked open the cab on my side and I stepped out reluctantly, Duo right behind me. "My hotel," he said. "We went to your place last time."

I'd have felt more comfortable in my own room. Now I was out of my element, here, and what if something went wrong? I had half a mind to jump, like a caged animal, and dive for the cab before it drove away. Duo whisked around to the driver's side and thumbed over a few bills, speaking to him in a tone I couldn't hear. I was being covered with flakes of white, fluffy snow.

I stared at the door. _I can still get in. I could run. I'm a pretty fast runner._

And then I mentally kicked myself. 'Run'? What the hell was I thinking? Yeah, a fantastic mental image, that. Me sprinting away from this swanky hotel dressed in club finery. No matter what I wouldn't turn away from this, no matter how reluctant I was, no matter how much I thought about Relena and missed her, too. _I want her back. No, I don't. Do I?_

"It's okay," Duo said, and I realized he was right next to me, grinning at me with one arm moving around my waist. "I'll be good, mmkay?" I wiped snow off my hair with one hand.

"Y-eah," I said brokenly, and allowed him to lead me inside. The doors swung shut behind us. _Well, there goes my 'run away' idea…_

He flipped a card out of his pocket with one hand and showed me to the elevator. It was late out, so nobody was in the lobby save for a few teenage girls, who openly stared at the two of us. I shot them a death glare and Duo shot them a "hey, babe" smile. Just to show how different we were. I was terrified.

"I'm number 231," Duo said as he slid the card through the elevator readout and it began to rise, stopping a few seconds later on the second floor. We got out. He led me to a large oaken door and swiped the key once more before the door beeped open and we were let inside.

_Oh, well, this isn't… so bad, _I thought absentmindedly. There was a sitting room out front with a couple of chairs and a fireplace, and a couch pressed against the wall, a few avant garde pantings hanging around. A small kitchen, too, with a fridge in the corner. Off to the side was a door that led to the main bedroom and bathroom adjoined, an enormous bed seen beyond.

"A king size," I said, looking at the bed.

"I roll around in my sleep," he said, grinning. "Unless I'm, y'know, holding onto someone."

There was a pad of paper on the kitchen counter, a pen-scrawled message hastily slanted across the first page. _Ski waxing. Call me. Zechs._

"Didn't get your skis finished yet?" I asked, motioning at the message. I recognized the name Zechs as the press manager he'd told me about himself, which registered safely in the back of my mind. He looked at the note, frowned, and shrugged. "I did though. Maybe something sponsor-related." He tore off the piece of yellow paper and crumpled it up, tossing it in the wastebasket and making it.

I looked through the wide window on the other side of the sitting room. The snow was thickening. It was beautiful; a shame I couldn't have had better snow today on the run, though it hadn't made a difference in the end.

_You just won the gold medal in snowboard cross. You should be excited. _

The thing was, I didn't feel anything. Not excited, or elated, or happy, or any of those things winning such an honor was supposed to incite. I just felt normal. It was another test I had been put to and like the Perfect Heero Yuy I was, I'd conquered this test. There was nothing more to it. Relena, I thought sarcastically, would have been so proud of me, were she here to care.

"Sit down," Duo said.

I jittered. He raised his brows at me: "I'm not going to hold you down and screw you, Heero. I'm offering you a drink. And—correct me if I'm wrong—you're thinking of your ex, aren't you?"

"Of course not," I said icily.

A moment passed.

"…Well, yeah, I am," I admitted meekly. _Meekly. _I sounded like a mouse or a scared child. This, quite simply, did not happen. Ever.

"Now talk."

"What?"

"Just talk. I'll hear it. Scotch or beer or… think I've got tequila?"

"Scotch," I said without thinking, and sat down on the couch, my back stiff and my posture perfectly upright.

There was silence.

"My parents liked her," I said. "Well, Odin wasn't my father, sure, but he liked her well enough, and she was pretty… pretty nice, you know? Good with kids, that sort of thing. I always thought maybe I'd have a family someday and she seemed like she was good at handling one. We were the perfect couple and everything was just fine, me training and winning all these tournaments, and her being a teacher on the side and all that. It was quaint. And then they up and died, car went off a cliff and nobody ever found out why… " I stopped. _You will not cry._

"…And then I did, I found letters. Odin was some kind of hitman, an assassin or something, and someone planted that trap for him that night, they sent him a warning they were gonna do it—I mean, how fuckin' cheesy does that sound? Who becomes an _assassin?_" I laughed bitterly. "But that's how he was making the money to support my mom and me, and he always treated me like I was his real son, and fuck, he had a lot of money and suddenly it was _mine. _Relena wanted me to use it and I said no, it was blood money, and then…" I stopped. "Then I stopped caring."

"About what?" I heard the _spicklefwshhhh _of liquid being poured into a glass.

"About everything," I said dismally. "Life. Myself. My health. Our future. _Our _future. I stopped caring about her, didn't kiss her anymore, no sex, nothing. She left me and never looked back. And me, the bastard I was, I deserved it, you know? I came around her home a few times but never actually got up the courage to knock."

"I don't blame you," Duo said quietly. He had his red-gold braid over his shoulder. Two glasses, both scotch, filled to the brim.

"You should probably get me drunk before I break something," I said quietly.

"Go ahead. I can afford to lose anything in this room," he said, and smiled.

I stopped cold, staring at him. "I might break something irreplaceable," I said.

"Everything's replacable."

"Not everything."

"What are you trying to prove?"

"That I'm dangerous. I'm a freak. I can't feel."

"You felt pretty well when we were in that hallway," he said, smirking.

"I don't even hardly know you. _Why _are you doing this to me?"

"Does it matter? I like you. Always have. Heard your story somewhere around, started researching you, pulled up your past accomplishments. Heero, you were the reason I wanted to enter the Olympics. I fuckin' idolized you for years, you know that? I've been skiing longer but I never wanted to join the American team until I heard about you."

"So you knew about me," I said flatly.

"Do you want to know about _me?_" he returned.

"Yes," I said.

"Fine. Okay. I was a slum child, had a brother Solo. Weird name, but that's what we were called. Druggie parents probably, and for all I know I'm a coke baby, maybe that's why I'm addicted to high speeds and adrenaline." He grinned. "Anyhow. Solo and me, we lived in the streets for a long time. He died of pneumonia, don't even remember much about him except his face. I got adopted by a rich couple. Helen and Maxwell. Never called 'em "mom" and "dad" except for a few times, but that's what they were to me anyways." He stopped, thinking.

"Maxwell was a good guy, kinda uptight though. He wanted me to get into this prestigious school where they send you off to all kinds of freaky countries and it's like a trade, right? So I went to Wufei's school. Short story: Found out I was gay, learned to ski, moved back to the states, started up a life of sex and skiing. Now I'm here. I compete in two days. That's my life."

I'd been drinking from my glass this entire time. "I'm a bad therapist," I said.

"I don't need a shrink," he replied, taking a seat on the couch.

"Yeah, but…" the alcohol was going to my head, making me feel slightly lighter and airier, somehow happier. My depression had lifted, taking my fear with it. "…good to hear that shit anyways." He looked at me, eyes lifting. His eyelashes were still a dark brown. "C'mere, you're gonna fall over," he said, drawing me against him. We were the same height and probably the same weight but he somehow was solid, realer than I was. And really, really warm, too. He exuded a kind of inner warmth I didn't have.

Okay. It was time.

"What do you… want?" I asked tentatively. "From… me?"

"I should be asking you that," he said, laughing cheerfully. "But since you asked…" he turned his head to me and kissed me.

Slow and passionate, the slightest promise of his teeth grazing over my mouth, his tongue drawing me in and closer with each slight movement. I took his braid in my hand, tugging his head against mine when he pulled away a fraction of an inch, binding us together, our bodies leaving no space between.

He spoke against my mouth. "Hair fetish?"

"You said I could," I reminded him, and slipped the rubber band off the end, still kissing him. In a matter of seconds I had switched from fear to lust to fear to lust again. My emotions were a tipping scale at the minute, and I didn't care. It felt good. He sighed. "It'll get in the damn way, but whatever, Yuy."

The braid unwravelled easily in my hands as I combed my fingers through his hair. _Just like Relena's—no, better, _I debated to myself as he moved his mouth down to suck on my neck, both of us falling sideways until he was on top of me and we were sharing the same breathing space. He reached up as I finished letting his hair out, the tendrils spilling over his body down to his waist, and pulled the lace at the top of his shirt. The cloth fell away easily. I grabbed him by the arms, pulling him back down, running my hands down that skin and _oh, God _it was perfect. Flawless. No scars or marks here. I kissed him, lower and lower, watching the reaction on his face as I dipped my tongue into his bellybutton, trailing the pads of my fingers ever so lightly down his abs.

"Not here," he said jerkily. "Bed. Now." And climbed off me, dragging me hastily into the other room, me stumbling behind. Once more we cleaved and now the bed was behind my calves, tripping me up, which was okay. The mattress was soft. He looked even more wild with his hair free like that, but even more beautiful, too.

"You're beautiful… _Scythe,_" I growled to him, and rolled over on top of him. Now who had control?

"So," he said, reaching his hand up my shirt and lazily toying with my nipples, "Are you.—What?" He stared at me openly. "Wait, did you…?"

"Your nickname," I said, and suddenly felt heat rise to my face. _Shit. _What if Hilde was leading me on?

"S'what Solo used to call me," he said, the grin returning. "Hilde told you, didn't she? Damn, that woman knows what I like." He pulled the back of my head down for a kiss, whispering things against my ear that made me crazy as one hand slid from the shirt to the button on my pants, then inside, then wrapping around _me _and giving an encouraging squeeze. I couldn't help it – I moaned a little through my teeth.

The areas around his nipples were a dark brown and I smoothed my hands over them, feeling him writhe beneath me but not let up in his ministrations. I was halfway between heaven and hell. I didn't know if I wanted him to stop or not, all I knew was… I wanted to be happy with this when it was done. And so far, so good, right? He knew not to push me over the edge yet, a good thing, and paused halfway to let me lift my shirt over my head.

I shucked him of his pants as he did likewise to me, and once again I found myself turned over and now we were lying side by side, his hair all on one side and pooling on my chest, silver and gold and burgundy in the soft lamplight spilling in from the kitchen area. It was dark in the bedroom, but not so dark we couldn't see; his face was a ghostly silhouette against the snowy window, giving me a daring smile as he pulled up against the headboard and looked back at me, completely naked.

_Okay. _I hadn't done this in a long time, but yeah, I could manage, I thought. It hadn't been so long I didn't know what to do, obviously. This stuff was natural. It just sort of… flowed. I grinned up at him: "Lube?" was all I asked.

"Yeah. Jeans pocket."

"…Your jeans pocket," I echoed with a small smirk.

"If I'd have had it my way we'd have fucked on the club floor. Just get it before I explode," Duo said, eyes shutting for a moment as he wrapped his hands in the bedsheets. I crawled back and fished the tube out of his pocket, rubbing a little on my hands before returning to him, pressing against him, kissing him harshly, grinding the both of us together…

"But Scythe, I want you to _beg_," I whispered in his ear. This was true. I longed to hear him say my name, just once, but I wouldn't have admitted it. For now just the sound of his voice would be good enough.

"Get off your high horse—_ahh_"

…I rubbed my thigh against his erection as I slipped a finger inside him. This produced a long, breathy sound from him, barely above a whisper, the digit stretching and worming its way into the soft heat inside. He was tight but not too much, so it wasn't too hard, and a second finger followed; I curled my hand up when I was buried inside him and found that spot and he arched his back up off the pillows, the soft flesh of his throat exposed to me and my mouth. Mm. Duo tasted like a perfume all his own.

Three fingers now, and he wasn't taking it quietly but he was into it, and both of us were sweating a little. I always sort of liked it when my partner sweated—it meant they were enjoying what I was doing. I licked his neck and he writhed more in perfect ecstasy. "MmohGodHeero," he groaned. "Now, Christ, now…" his cock was red, face flushed, begging for release and I wasn't giving it to him, not yet. I laid my hand atop his member, the slightest twinge of skin on crotch and he was _shivering _in pleasure, thrusting his hips up into my hand unrestrainedly.

The sight of him spread out like that beneath me made me want to either fuck the living daylights out of him and tear him apart in the process or put a gun to someone's head and pull the trigger. It was hard to tell these urges apart.

I took a moment to prepare myself as quickly as possible before the first slow thrust, penetrating him and brushing against his prostate. He tingled underneath me with his head thrown back, moved onto me, pushed back, and together we set a rhythm. His arms came to wrap around my waist, holding me to him, inside him. I withdrew, thrust again, and did it slowly—I was taking my time with this. He wasn't making too much noise, more breathing hard than anything, and I could hear little tiny _ahs _of pleasure with every shock I sent up his body.

The only good word I could think of was _joined, _because it felt like the heat from his body was coming via electric tickle into me and he was all around me and I was inside him. Perfection. They say nothing's perfect but that's what this was. Is there a word to describe the simple completion, the unification of sex? Tight and very, very real, that's what it was. _He won't leave you: this is real, _I thought. And there was a kind of safety in that. Duo would not desert me. It was okay.

"Jesus_Christ_Heeroharder—"

I felt the usual plateau and knew I was standing on the very edge, one more thrust and blankness covered my vision, I couldn't see anything but the patch of Duo in front of me, his eyes half-shut and his cheeks tinted red as his muscles contracted around me, our two bodies pressed together and the mood in the room was primal and thoroughly male, but I wouldn't have traded right now for anything in the world. He gave a half-cry as he came. _This is it, this is what I've been missing, _I thought. _Yes._

I felt the warmth pooling in my groin tighten, then all I saw was black.

The next thing that brought me back was the sound of breathing, us breathing together—funny how the body matches its breathing to whatever's next to it—and the warmth was nearly unbearable. Feverish. The musked smell of release was everywhere. And there was Duo, and he was smiling back at me, that crooked smile that drove something in my mind insane. "Damnit, Yuy, that was good," he said, and wrapped his arms around me.

"Yeah, well," I said, and as the afterglow faded from me it was replaced with a solid, comfortable warmth. Like watching your favorite movie on a snowy day. I could remember having done that once or twice, when I was smaller, but not recently…

We both lay in each other's arms and panted and pressed against each other, absorbing life from body to body. Eventually he stirred: "They say you're not supposed to do this, but I think I'm in love with you. Fuck _me_," he said, looking up at me.

"Just did." I had no reply for the first part of his statement. Not yet. My brain struggled to cope.

"Figure of speech, love. Sorry."

"I don't know if I…" I frowned. "Don't know if I do yet. I mean."

"Love me, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"I don't expect that, Heero," he said, and kissed me. "But I feel it's only fair to make an invitation, yeah?"

"Invitation to what?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Mmf. More sex, please." He waggled his eyebrows. "And to train with me."

_Train. _"You're going to enter the Olympics again?"

"If I make it, sure. Money's good, fame's better. I've got a few homes around the world at the moment—when this is over, you're welcome to join me. We could take a trip together. It'd be fun."

Well, _this _was sudden. I calculated the balances. Calculated every possible way I could answer that question, and thought more about what would happen if I did…

…_Stop thinking so much, _a voice told me. _Do something spontaneous._

"Sure, 'Scythe," I said, barely smiling, and pushed my legs under the coverlet.

* * *

I was wearing a cum-stained pair of pants and my shirt was on backwards. I had no shoes on. The hotel people didn't mind. Just waived me by, passed me on.

I stuck the key in the door and shrugged into some normal clothes, staring at myself in the mirror. _I don't look any different, but I feel…_

…felt what? Good? Amazing. Fantastic.

A moment later, a knock came. _Who the hell? _I hoped it wasn't Hilde. I didn't feel like talking to her at the moment, nor J.

I looked through the peephole and fell to my knees, pressing my forehead against the wood.

No. _No. _NO.

It was impossible.

There was no way this could be happening to me. It broke all the rules.

I opened the door.

"…It's me, Heero," said Relena, and smiled.


End file.
